


Something That'll Save Me

by Mackaley



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has a Vulva (Good Omens), Blow Jobs, Bondage, Cock Warming, Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Cunnilingus, Face-Sitting, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Kink Exploration, Kink Negotiation, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Massage, Multiple Orgasms, Nipple Clamps, Nipple Play, Orgasm Denial, Pillow Talk, Praise Kink, Prostate Massage, Romance, Service Kink, Smut, Spanking, Vibrators, Wax Play, Wing Grooming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 17:17:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21058097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mackaley/pseuds/Mackaley
Summary: "Youknowme better even than I know myself sometimes. You pay attention to what I want, what I need. And if it’s possible, you give it to me. Just because it’ll make me happy. There’s a level of knowledge and intimacy, ofservicethere, Crowley, that not only makes me profoundly grateful to have someone as thoughtful as you in my life, but, and to be quite frank, Iyearnfor it. Iwant, Crowley, and it burns in me. I want you to indulge me. I want you to dote on me. I want to heap my praises on you because youdeserveit for being so clever and loving.I want to keep you safe. I want you to feel like you haven’t misplaced your trust in me. I want totake care of you, as much as you take care of me."-----A fairly soft exploration of kink and D/s.





	Something That'll Save Me

**Author's Note:**

> This fic possessed me and now I'm finally free and can catch up on the past three weeks of A/C fic here. What a daunting task. 
> 
> Title from Lady Gaga's "Teeth"

“Have you ever wanted to be a human?”

Crowley looked up from where his head rested on Aziraphale’s shoulder. Aziraphale continued to look up at the ceiling, waiting for Crowley’s answer. He traced shapes on Crowley's arm which was flung across his chest. 

“Nah. Well, yes. But whenever I've thought about it, the pros never outweighed the cons. How about you?”

“About the same, I think. It depends on when I’d been asked, I suppose.”

“What d’you mean?”

“Well for example, if you’d asked me if I wanted to be human before Armageddon, I might have entertained the idea depending on my mood.”

“And now?”

“Absolutely not.”

Crowley laughed. “Why?”

“Most of the pros of being human I have now.”

“Like what? Give me a full rundown. We've got all the time in the world.”

Aziraphale chuckled and grabbed Crowley’s hand, stroking his thumb across the back of it. 

“That was a considerable con, not having all the time in the world. Other cons: no miracles. Certain… _biological_ processes--”

“Shitting.”

Aziraphale slapped his hand lightly. “Don't be crass, Crowley. _All_ waste removal. The sleep requirement. Illness. Certain limitations on eating - what if I was lactose intolerant? I shudder to think. The inability to sober up. I could go on. I do love humans but they're very messy.”

“You only listed the cons. What about the pros?”

Aziraphale remained silent for several moments, running his hands absentmindedly over Crowley’s bare skin. 

“Freedom. Freedom to choose what to do and when to do it. Freedom to be with the person I love most in all creation.” Crowley squeezed his hand. “Control over my own life. I became so… _frustrated_ the longer things went on. I spent my whole life on Earth so accommodating and _obedient_ because I truly believed it was what was required of me to serve God. Well, I thought I was serving God. I still don’t know what is Her Plan and what was just Heaven’s.

“Especially after we were well into the Arrangement. You were right, though I never would have admitted it until now: Head Office really never did seem to pay attention or _care_ as to who was accomplishing my blessings, so long as they got done. It became this cycle of frustration, rationalization, pushing it down, trying harder, and then frustration again. All I want to do is help people without bureaucracy. I can do that now.”

“Mark it down, angel. Today’s the day you finally admitted I was right about something.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “You were right about quite a lot, it turns out. Oh, don’t give me that look. You’re still wrong about quite a lot, too,” he teased. “You know, Uriel told me shortly before I was discorporated that I think too much. It’s true. Humanity has made me curious. But I never questioned, never expressed my doubts out loud because it was too dangerous. If they found out about you, about us. And, well, I suppose I was afraid of Falling.” 

He continued to look up at the ceiling and avoided Crowley’s gaze.

Crowley raised his arm from Aziraphale's chest and brushed his fingers along Aziraphale’s forehead. He trailed his hand down to his cheek and turned the angel's face towards him. He furrowed his eyebrows in concern. 

“Are you afraid of talking about that with me?”

Aziraphale smiled at him regretfully. “I’m afraid I’ve been rather callous about it in the past.”

Crowley shook his head. “Listen, angel. I’m over it. Well. I’m as over it as I’m ever going to be. Well. It doesn’t matter, is my point. I want you to talk to me about what’s on your mind. Whatever I’m feeling doesn’t matter.”

Aziraphale glared down at him. “Don’t you ever say that again. Your feelings matter a great deal. You just don’t talk about it much, except generally, and I never wanted to prod old wounds.”

Crowley snorted. “_Old wounds_. Ancient wounds, Aziraphale. Prehistoric. It’s. Listen.” He sighed. “It is what it is. I asked questions, I hung around the wrong people, I Fell. Do I still think about it? ‘Course. Especially when I remember there’s a bunch of _pricks_ still up in Heaven. Not that I want to be an angel again, mind. I like being a demon. But. You love me. Somehow. And that’s more than I’ll ever need for the rest of my life.”

Aziraphale’s eyes pricked with tears. “Oh, I do love you so, my darling.”

Crowley smiled and moved closer to kiss him. Aziraphale felt his soul become lighter with every gentle brush of Crowley’s fingers through his hair, every soft sigh from the demon’s mouth. Crowley tangled their legs and Aziraphale nipped his bottom lip before pressing their foreheads together. 

“What about you, dear? What did you think would be nice about being a human?”

Crowley rolled onto his back. “Dunno. S’pose it’s the same. Although.” He scrunched his face as if he were choosing his words carefully. “It’s not so much about _control_, for me. It’s… safety? I don’t have to watch my back anymore. I can just… live. Watch telly without worrying that Hastur’s going to pop up during Strictly. 

“That and--and I will _never_ admit to saying this angel, so don’t try to bring it up again. It’s. It’s nice to be appreciated. Validated. A commendation is well and good enough but I didn’t actually do half of what they commended me for. No one paid attention. Although now that I’ve effectively been sacked, I guess no one will appreciate my demonic genius. Ah well.”

Aziraphale noticed the slight furrow in Crowley’s brow as he spoke, as if he were trying to figure something out. Aziraphale cleared his throat.

“Well, if it means anything, I think you’re a very good demon. I’ve had a hard go at thwarting many of your wiles.”

Crowley rolled his eyes and groaned. “Save the pity, angel.” He scrubbed his face. “All this feelings talk is exhausting. I’m going to sleep now so I can be spared the embarrassment that comes after speaking candidly.”

Aziraphale tsk’d but shifted closer as Crowley’s limbs wrapped around him. He pressed a kiss to his soft red hair and inhaled his scent. “I like talking about my worries with you, Crowley. I always have,” he murmured into the top of his head.

Crowley muttered something into his chest.

“What was that, dear?”

“I said ‘Me too,’ angel. Now please. Stop talking and let me have one last shred of dignity.”

Aziraphale laughed and Crowley drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Aziraphale laid awake the rest of the night thinking of their conversation and Crowley's look towards the end of it, like he was trying to grasp the last, fleeting tendrils of a dream after waking. A dawning moment of comprehension that slipped through his fingers. 

Aziraphale reckoned he had figured it out. 

It wasn't hard to, once he thought about it for a little while. He had known Crowley for over 6000 years, had spent countless days and nights with him. The evidence was all there and it had just… slotted into place.

Crowley had always gone along with his whims because he had asked or insinuated or even just gave him a meaningful look. Every time he saved him, brought him his favorite pastries, treated him to an expensive meal, Aziraphale had assumed it was because of their friendship. And he was sure it was, but Crowley's ability to predict his moods and his needs, to then _act_ on that knowledge, surely that was something else, something more. 

Crowley doted on him. Indulged him. _Served_ him, he thought with a delicious shudder. 

And oh, he wanted to be served. Wanted Crowley to bring him sweets and books. Wanted Crowley to rub his feet and treat him to dinner and picnics and walks and wanted him to get on his knees and bring Aziraphale to orgasm over and over and over while Aziraphale sung his praises and…

He blushed. He looked down at Crowley’s sleeping form, his mouth slightly agape and a small spot of drool on the pillow. He gently brushed Crowley’s hair back from his forehead and the small smile that crept onto Crowley’s face nearly made him cry.

He wanted Crowley to know he was loved. Treasured. The single most spectacular being in creation. 

He wanted Crowley to know him and his needs better than even he did. And he wanted to show Crowley how much he appreciated the intimacy that came with that knowledge. Wanted Crowley to know that his trust and service was not misplaced. 

Crowley had said he wanted _validation_. Aziraphale was more than happy to give it to him.

Dawn broke through the curtains and he extricated himself from Crowley’s long limbs. He bent to kiss him on the temple and Crowley grumbled, cocooning himself further into the blankets on the bed. 

Aziraphale got dressed, made a cup of tea, and headed downstairs to start on inventory. 

Two hours later he heard Crowley padding down the stairs. Aziraphale would make them some tea in just a mo--

“Tea, angel?”

He turned around and Crowley was standing in his jeans and one of Aziraphale’s cable-knit jumpers holding two steaming mugs in his hands. 

Oh. 

“Oh, thank you. You know, I was just about to put the kettle on.”

Crowley shrugged and took a sip from his own mug. “Figured. It’s been a couple hours since you got up.” He pulled out his phone and sat down on the couch. 

Aziraphale felt a rush of love and heat run through him. He decided to put his theory to the test. 

“You please me greatly, my darling.”

Crowley’s jaw tightened and a pink tinge flushed his cheeks. “It's just tea.”

“Yes, but you always know just how I like it. Thank you.”

Crowley took a pointed sip from his mug and avoided Aziraphale's gaze. 

“Will you help me around the shop today? I'm thinking of doing a minor organizational overhaul and I'll need an extra pair of hands.”

“‘Course.”

“Thank you, dear. I’ll put a record on and we’ll start after you’ve finished waking up.”

After tea, Aziraphale led Crowley to a corner of the store. “Now. Biographies, autobiographies, and memoirs. Obviously _completely_ different, but they’ve sort of become all muddled on this shelf. I want you to--”

A loud snore erupted from behind him and he spun around to see Crowley pretending to sleep against one of the shelves. Aziraphale huffed. 

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

Crowley peeked through one amber eye and grinned.

“It wasn’t funny the first time and it’s definitely not funny now.”

“It gets funnier literally every time.”

Aziraphale sighed dramatically and turned back to the shelf. “Well, if you don’t want to _help_, dear, then--” 

He felt Crowley’s arms immediately come around his waist and a big smack as Crowley kissed his cheek. “No, let me help. Biographies, autobiographies, memoirs. Completely different. Muddled shelf. What needs doing? Use me.”

Aziraphale was grateful Crowley was behind him and couldn’t see his eyes flutter shut. 

He explained his new system to Crowley, gesturing grandly and speaking in a hurry. He then provided detailed instructions.

“So if you could just sort these as I’ve outlined and then I’ll come check on you in a couple of minutes. Can you do that for me, love?”

“Will do, angel.” He turned towards the shelf and began plucking titles off, briefly flipping through them, and setting them aside. Aziraphale walked across the shop and busied himself with another section. 

He checked in on Crowley twenty minutes later and found him sitting amongst piles of books, reading a biography of Elizabeth I. He looked up at Aziraphale and held the book out, shaking it.

“Do these authors fact check _anything_? What a load of bollocks. I can’t believe you sell this to people.”

Aziraphale smiled. “Well, not everyone has the ah, primary source material that we may have, Crowley.”

“You have a duty to the public to not sell this. You’re spreading _lies_.” He placed the book in one of the piles surrounding him. He twisted around to grab another volume.

“When you’re done, just shout for me.” Crowley nodded and cracked open the next book.

Aziraphale continued to flit around and reorganize books into slightly more comprehensible stacks. He got so absorbed in the task that he had nearly forgotten his experiment for the day. 

Nearly. 

About an hour later he heard Crowley call his name and he went to join him. He was standing near the shelf, all the books now put away, with his hands in his pockets. If he was wearing his sunglasses he might've been able to hide his expression, but as it was he looked nervous for Aziraphale’s approval. 

Aziraphale took a breath and stepped closer to the shelf, eyeing it over carefully. Twice he reached out to move a book before withdrawing his hand after determining that its order was, in fact, satisfactory. He glanced out of the corner of his eye every time he did and Crowley had tensed slightly each time. 

After several long minutes, he took a step back and nodded. He turned to Crowley who could barely hide his apprehension behind his usually cool exterior and smiled broadly. 

“Absolutely perfect. Exactly how I would've done it.” 

Crowley’s body relaxed under his approval and he kicked his foot out, his hands still shoved deep in his pockets. “Yeah, well.”

Aziraphale stepped closer to him and placed his hand firmly on his upper arm. He looked directly at Crowley and didn't try to hide the heat in his own eyes when he said “You take my instruction _so well_, darling. Thank you.”

Crowley’s eyes widened and he leaned closer to Aziraphale. Aziraphale rubbed his hand purposefully up and down Crowley’s arm before stepping out of his space, turning around, and clapping his hands. 

“Right. After all that work this morning, I'm feeling a bit peckish. And it's been very nippy in here the past several days so I'd like to go get something warm and hearty. Oh, how about that Irish pub and restaurant you took me to last autumn--Lady something? That should be cozy.”

He turned back around and saw Crowley standing there looking at him with the same expression he wore the previous night, but this time focused on Aziraphale instead of himself. 

“Crowley? Pub?”

“Yeah, sounds good.” 

“Excellent. Could you grab my coat? And then we’ll be off.”

He waited as Crowley crossed over to the coat rack, farther from him than it was from Aziraphale, and removed the garment with care. He walked back over to Aziraphale and the angel held his breath, waiting to see if Crowley would help him into it without his asking. 

Crowley moved behind him and held the coat open. Warmth blossomed through Aziraphale, enough to render the coat useless, and he lifted his arms to shrug through the sleeves. Crowley smoothed his hands, warm and broad, across his back and over his shoulders before standing in front of him again. Aziraphale’s breath hitched when Crowley leaned in close to his ear, his long fingers coming up to his neck. 

“Your tie is crooked, angel.” Crowley’s breath was hot on the side of his face and he closed his eyes to lean into him. Crowley pulled back and he opened them again. 

“Right. Thank you, dear.” His heart was hammering. “Shall we?”

They walked arm-in-arm to the restaurant. Aziraphale didn't know if he was shivering so much because of the damp chill in the air or the world of new possibilities that seemed to be blooming before him after what was, in his mind, an immeasurable success of an experiment this morning. 

They entered the restaurant and sat down in a secluded corner booth, all dark wood and green upholstery, and looked over the menus. Crowley flipped immediately to their extensive beer offerings. 

Aziraphale perused the menu, making little noncommittal noises and pursing his lips slightly. 

“I think the Brussels sprouts to start. And I can't decide - should I order the shepherd’s pie or the chicken pot pie?”

“Get the shepherd’s pie. It’ll warm you up more - you need to start wearing more layers. You were shivering like anything on the way over. Plus I got the pot pie last time and you didn't even finish it.” 

Aziraphale gaped at him. “Well, first of all, _someone_ decided to wear my coziest jumper today so it's hardly my fault that I'm not in something warmer. And second, thank you. The shepherd’s pie does sound like it'll hit the spot.”

He didn't understand how Crowley seemed to remember every single detail of their shared lives. Although he supposed that his memory was much better when it came to the subject of _Crowley_ than anything else. He had entire mental catalogues devoted to the infinite variation in Crowley’s facial expressions, his smiles. 

He looked at Crowley now. To anyone else, his expression probably looked surly, neutral at best. Aziraphale knew that he was happy. Or more specifically, that he was content to be here with Aziraphale, still faintly glowing under his praise earlier, and then under that, thoughtfulness. 

Aziraphale took Crowley’s hand and played with the hem of the knit sleeve, running his fingers along the rough cream wool and the delicate smooth skin at Crowley’s wrist. Crowley looked up at him and smiled. 

“You know I don't really mind when you wear my clothes, Crowley.” He slipped his fingers farther under his sleeve and then circled Crowley’s wrist. He tried to keep his tone casual. “It makes me feel a bit. Well, a bit _possessive_.” 

He tightened his grip and Crowley whimpered quietly. 

“Especially when we're out together. There's no doubt whose jumper you're wearing and it's nice to show you off and be proud of what we mean to each other, after hiding for so long.”

It was Crowley’s turn to gape at Aziraphale, opening and closing his mouth repeatedly. It was only when the waiter approached their table and Aziraphale released his wrist to order their food that Crowley seemed to come back to himself. 

“What did you order me?” he asked in a daze. 

“Fish and chips. I was thinking about the meatloaf but I want you to actually eat a little bit today and I know you generally agree at least with the chips.” Aziraphale smiled warmly at him. 

“And why is it so important that I eat today?”

“Because I asked you to.”

Crowley bristled. “Oh, and I'm supposed to just do anything you ask me to?”

Aziraphale frowned. “Of course not. You're your own being, Crowley. I wouldn't want you to do anything that upsets you or makes you uncomfortable.” He paused briefly. “But it'll make me happy if you eat a bit today and I think you'd like to make me happy.”

Crowley grumbled but sure enough, when their food came, he ate two pieces of fish and over half of the chips before he pushed the plate towards Aziraphale. In a reversal of roles, the angel had been watching him eat with rapt attention. He smiled when Crowley handed him the leftovers. 

“Thank you very much. And you were right - the shepherd’s pie was _delicious_. A perfect balm to this chilly November day.”

“That's twice in two days that you've said I was right about something. This is a historic occasion, angel.”

Aziraphale shot Crowley a look. “If you'll recall, I said you've been right before. Don't get such a big head about it.”

Crowley took a deep sip from his beer. “You know who has a _big_ head? Fucking Gabriel.”

They laughed and continued to dig in at their former coworkers as they left the restaurant and walked home. Crowley slipped his arm around Aziraphale’s waist and the angel beamed at him. He slipped his own hand into Crowley’s back pocket and gave a cheeky squeeze. Crowley yelped and Aziraphale withdrew his hand, laughing. 

Crowley steered them around puddles on the sidewalk as Aziraphale talked animatedly about the rest of his plans for the bookshop’s re-organization. 

As soon as they entered the shop and Aziraphale closed the door, Crowley crowded against him and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. Aziraphale hummed contentedly and wrapped his arms around his neck. 

Crowley kissed him several more times before trailing his lips lightly along his jaw up to his ear. His hands rested gently on Aziraphale’s hips. He nipped at the angel’s earlobe before whispering “What do you want, Aziraphale? What’re you after, hm?” He kissed under his ear. “All day… what are you after? I… I think I know, but I need you to tell me. What do you want?”

Aziraphale placed his hands on either side of Crowley’s face and guided him to look at him. He kissed him deeply before pulling back and pressing their foreheads together. 

“I think we should talk about it over some tea. Can you go sit down while I put the kettle on?”

Crowley nodded and broke apart from him, stalking further into the shop. Aziraphale went upstairs and set about making them tea. 

He stood in the kitchenette and let the water come to a boil naturally so he had time to breathe and gather his thoughts. 

They stood at a precipice, similar to the one they stood at several months ago, at the end of the world. Falling with Crowley - and the irony wasn't lost on him - into the inevitability of their relationship had been the best, most rewarding thing he had ever done. 

So much of their day-to-day life hadn't changed, after Aziraphale grabbed Crowley’s hand before they had even fully sat down on the bus back to London. Their days were still filled with each other, with the bookshop, the park, their dinners, their routines. But then, still, absolutely everything had changed. Adam had restored the world back to more-or-less how it had been, but how it hadn't done a 180 again when an angel and a demon desperately, tenderly confessed their love for each other in a Mayfair flat, desperately, tenderly made love for the first time lest they wouldn't have the chance at a second. Well, Aziraphale didn't know. 

And here they were again, about to fall over the edge together for the second time. 

He finished preparing the tea and walked downstairs, catching a glimpse of Crowley sitting on the couch, his leg bouncing slightly.

He placed Crowley’s mug in front of him and took a seat on the couch about a foot away. He took his own bracing sip before setting it down and turning towards Crowley.

“I have to admit, I don’t really know how to start this conversation.”

Crowley laughed flatly. “How about start with: why today?”

Aziraphale sighed. “I was thinking about our conversation last night, about what we thought a life of free will would bring us. I mentioned that I felt powerless in my own life and that I would like to express more control over it. You said that you wanted to feel safe, validated. You went to sleep and I stayed awake thinking about it more. About you, and me, and us. And I came to the realization that like every other part of ourselves, I think we complement each other perfectly in this.”

He took another deep breath and looked at Crowley who was staring at him intently. “Throughout our life together, you’ve always taken… special interest in indulging me. Oh sure, we’ve fought and argued and gotten on each other’s nerves, but at the bottom of it all, we’ve always been willing to… do things for each other, just because we wanted to or because it felt like the right thing to do. Our entire relationship is _predicated_ on the fact that it felt right. We never would have become partners, friends, _lovers_ if that weren’t true. We would have stayed on our own paths instead of finding ways back to each other just because we delighted in the other’s company.

“Which is to say, like I mentioned, you have always indulged me. You _know_ me better even than I know myself sometimes. You pay attention to what I want, what I need. And if it’s possible, you give it to me. Just because it’ll make me happy. There’s a level of knowledge and intimacy, of _service_ there, Crowley, that not only makes me profoundly grateful to have someone as thoughtful as you in my life, but, and to be quite frank, I _yearn_ for it. I _want_, Crowley, and it burns in me. I want you to indulge me. I want you to dote on me. I want to heap my praises on you because you _deserve_ it for being so clever and loving. 

“I want to keep you safe. I want you to feel like you haven’t misplaced your trust in me. I want to _take care of you_, as much as you take care of me. 

“I had reasonable suspicion you felt somewhat the same and you were so marvelous today, dear. You take such good care of me and I love you so much for it. And… and I suppose that’s why today. So. Yes.”

Crowley continued to stare at him, but the comprehension seemed to finally dawn behind his eyes. His cheeks were flushed and he swallowed nervously. But he remained silent, still. Aziraphale shrunk in on himself.

“Do say something, dear. I’m starting to feel a bit silly after all that. I’m sorry if I overstepped in any way - if this isn’t something you want--”

“No,” Crowley said suddenly. He lurched forward and grabbed Aziraphale’s hand, lacing their fingers together and squeezing tight. “No, I… I do. Just give me a moment, yeah?”

Aziraphale nodded and placed his other hand on top of Crowley’s, waiting.

After a few moments, Crowley looked back at him and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah. Let's. Yeah.”

Aziraphale squeezed his hand. “I want to be clear that I want this… intimately. As well. I'd like to explore this part of ourselves ah, _in the bedroom_.”

“You can say fucking, angel.”

He sighed loudly. “Are you amenable to that, dear? I meant what I said back in the restaurant. I never want to make you uncomfortable. I would feel ill if I knew you were doing something solely for my sake.”

Crowley shook his head and chuckled. “Aziraphale. Are you at all aware of how long I've loved you? How long I've lusted after you? Yes, I'm _amenable_.”

“This doesn’t have to be all the time, mind, not any more than it is just the dynamic of our relationship. It’s not like I’ll be tying you up every time we have sex.” Heat flashed in Crowley’s eyes and he felt Crowley’s hand tighten on his own. His cock twitched in arousal. “Or, erm. Well. Just for example. Oh dear.”

Crowley shifted closer and moved his hand from Aziraphale’s to settle high on his thigh. He breathed shakily. “I wouldn’t mind that. Give you some of that _control_ you want.”

Aziraphale felt a bolt shoot through him. The look in Crowley’s eyes, like Aziraphale could do _anything_ and Crowley would thank him… He felt himself become more confident, like slipping into a natural state of himself he was rarely allowed to occupy. He privately thanked God again for Crowley.

He leaned closer so his nose barely touched Crowley’s, the tension between them hot and palpable. “Getting you under control will certainly be a bit of work, but luckily I’m very patient and willing to put in the time.” He was going to lose himself in the vast yellow of his eyes. “But what do you want, darling? This is for both of us. I want to give you everything, as you’ve given me. What do _you_ want?”

Crowley moved to kiss him, but Aziraphale moved back, still keeping their close distance. “I won’t kiss you until you answer my question.”

Crowley let out a steady exhale and closed his eyes. “I want you to tell me what to do,” he whispered. “I want you to instruct me and discipline me and reward me. I want _structure_. I want you to know that I am just so goddamn grateful to have you that I’ll do anything to please you.” 

Aziraphale slipped his hand into Crowley’s hair and dragged his nails against his scalp. Crowley keened high in his throat. “I want… Fuck, angel, I promise we can have a long conversation about limits and safe words and whatever other bollocks you want later, but _right now_ I want you to deliver on all those promises you just made.”

Aziraphale was out of excuses and pulled Crowley closer to kiss him hard, like he wanted to be fucking him already. A tidal wave of arousal crashed through him as Crowley opened his mouth immediately, darting his tongue out to swipe against Aziraphale’s bottom lip and whimpering when Aziraphale sucked it into his mouth. He licked into the demon’s mouth and then pulled back, dragging his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“Get on your knees.”

Crowley’s eyes fluttered. “_Yes_, Aziraphale.” 

He slinked down between Aziraphale’s thighs and nudged them farther apart before ducking his head and nosing along Aziraphale’s cock, quickly hardening under the attention. 

“Look at you, darling,” he whispered. He tilted Crowley’s head up to look at him. “Okay?”

Crowley nodded and Aziraphale undid the buttons at his waist and pushed his trousers and underwear off, assisted by Crowley's deft fingers. His hands resumed their place in Crowley’s hair and he guided him to continue nuzzling and pressing soft kisses to his cock. 

“Not that I'm not enjoying this, but are you gonna let me suck you off anytime soon? Let me _serve_ you.” He grinned. 

Aziraphale frowned and tightened his grip. Crowley whimpered. “Crowley? Let go. _Trust_ me. I told you I would take care of you, but I want to savor this first.” He slowly thrust his cock up and over Crowley's cheekbones, smearing precome along his lips and cheek. “Now hold still, please.”

He took his cock in hand and lazily dragged the head over Crowley’s lips. He finally pushed forward into the wet heat of his mouth and they both moaned appreciatively. 

He set a steady pace, rocking his hips forward and petting and tugging Crowley’s hair at the same time. Crowley, to his testament, kept still, relaxing his jaw and letting Aziraphale set the pace. Pride washed over him. 

“Oh Crowley, yes, just like that. You're so beautiful with my cock in your mouth. And keeping still, just like I asked. I'm so proud of you.” Crowley’s eyelids fluttered and he whined. 

“I know you can get a little mouthy when you're nervous. At least I have one effective way to keep you quiet.” He accentuated his point with a thrust. “Although if my cock is otherwise occupied, we’ll have to think of something else. Maybe a gag?” 

He pretended to ignore the way Crowley's eyes went wide and dark. Aziraphale patted his cheek affectionately, feeling his cock slide behind the smooth skin. “We’ll think of some ideas, I'm sure. Oh, _yes_, my darling.”

He pumped his hips, pulling out to slip the head between Crowley’s lips before pushing back in. He continued to thrust until he cried out, clenching his fingers in Crowley’s hair and spilling down his throat. 

He pulled his cock free and bent down to kiss him, slipping in his tongue inside and tasting himself. He urged Crowley up to a standing position and gave him an approving look over. 

“You're marvelous, Crowley.” 

Crowley stood, his hands in twitchy fists at his side, unsure if there were any instructions he was supposed to keep following. Aziraphale hummed. 

“Take off your trousers and come sit on my lap, please. You don't have to keep still or quiet, although I _appreciate_ your effort, darling. Look how easily you fall into this - I knew you would. I knew we’d be so _good_ like this.”

Crowley unclasped his belt and bent to shimmy the tight jeans down his legs. He stepped out of them and his erection tented his briefs, a large dark patch soaking the front. He stepped forward and straddled Aziraphale’s lap, sighing as soon as Aziraphale's hands came to rest on his hips. 

“Aziraphale, I need…”

Aziraphale kissed him. “Yes, Crowley, tell me what you need. I'm going to give you all of it.” 

“I want you to touch me.” He grabbed Aziraphale's hands and moved one just under the hem of his jumper and pressed the other insistently against his cock. “Please, angel.”

Aziraphale slipped his hand under Crowley’s jumper - _his_ jumper - and trailed his fingers up his ribs. 

“Be a dear and take this off.” 

Crowley crossed his arms and pulled the jumper over his head, setting it gingerly on the couch. Aziraphale pushed his underwear down and finally, finally held Crowley’s aching cock in his hand. A pulse of precome leaked from the tip at his touch and he used it to slick his hand before he set a steady pace. 

He wrapped his other arm around Crowley and grabbed his arse, pulling him flush against him and trailed kisses down his chest as Crowley rocked against him and moaned.

Aziraphale licked at one of his nipples and Crowley’s hands scrabbled in his hair. He licked around the tight bud before pulling it into his mouth, biting and suckling at it. He tightened his grip on Crowley’s cock and increased his speed. 

“Love how sensitive these are. I bet I could get you off just touching and sucking at these, nothing else.”

Crowley keened. “Said you would take care of me. Please don't stop.”

Aziraphale smiled against his chest. “Just thinking. To file away later.” He moved over to the other nipple, drawing it into his mouth and providing just as much attention. Crowley was playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, clenching and unclenching his fingers with Aziraphale’s ministrations. 

He dragged his nipple between his teeth as he pulled back and looked up at Crowley. His heart swelled as he saw Crowley’s eyes, blown yellow with depths of desire and _love_. He spread his hand broadly across Crowley’s chest, over his heart. Crowley's breath hitched and his eyes met Aziraphale’s. 

“My beautiful, beautiful Crowley. Look at you. You've been so wonderful today. So thoughtful. Forgive me, dear, but I do thank God quite frequently for you, for putting us in each other’s path. You are quite simply the best thing that's ever been in my life and I'm going to show you how thankful I am every single day.” 

Tears pricked Crowley’s eyes. He looked like he was going to crack open, all of Aziraphale’s light and praise spilling into him to soothe and heal all the dark spaces in his soul. 

“Please,” Crowley whispered. “Please.”

Aziraphale stroked faster. “Yes, love. You can come. You deserve it because you've been such a _good boy_.”

Crowley came with a high-pitched shout, pulsing over Aziraphale’s hand and his chest. Aziraphale greedily drank in his expression, the flush on his chest, his cock twitching in his hand. A final successful experiment. 

Crowley clung to him and buried his face in his neck, nuzzling under his ear. Aziraphale held him tight, running his hands in soothing strokes across his back. “Thank you, Crowley,” he whispered. The demon clung tighter. 

“I want us to have that long conversation before we do anything else, but I do think this will be fulfilling for both of us. _And_ now I know that every time I call you nice or good, you actually love it. Enthusiastically, in fact.”

Crowley groaned. “ ‘S embarrassing.” He muttered, then paused. “Say it again.” It was barely audible, but Aziraphale heard the desperation in his voice. How could he ever deny him anything?

Aziraphale kissed him fiercely on the cheek. “My dear, _good_ boy.”

* * *

They had their talk about “limits and safe words and whatever other bollocks” as Crowley had so aptly phrased it, and as Aziraphale suspected, everything and nothing had changed. Their day-to-day was largely the same, but every time Crowley did something Aziraphale asked him to, there was a heat, an _understanding_ to it that wasn’t there before.

And there was the sex, he supposed. The sex was _good_.

Now, for instance, Crowley was on his knees, naked, in the middle of the flat’s bedroom. His hands were bound behind his back, tied in the red silk rope they bought together the previous morning. Aziraphale stood behind him, visually inspecting the knots he had studied in detail and nodded. He knew Crowley could break free with a simple miracle, but like everything else, it was about seeming in control. 

He walked around Crowley, trying to _stalk_ like he did, and hummed approvingly. 

“Beautiful,” he muttered, and Crowley blushed. He came to a halt in front of him and affected a concerned tone. 

“Crowley.” The demon looked up at him, eyes wide. 

“I'm disappointed in you.”

Crowley shrunk into himself, turning from Aziraphale's gaze. The angel saw his cock bob and spill precome and he tried not to smile. 

“You haven’t answered to Hell in months and yet I still catch you _tempting_ people. Making their lives more inconvenient just for fun. Do you deny it?”

Crowley shook his head, the flush on his face spreading to his chest. 

Aziraphale sighed. “I can't blame you fully, my dear. I've been too _soft_ on you, since we've started our romantic relationship. I haven't performed my sworn duty to thwart evil’s wiles. But no more. Just because I love you doesn't mean I can allow this to go on. Look at me, Crowley.”

Crowley lifted his head to look at him, nervous anticipation in his expression. They had discussed the premise of this scene ahead of time but Crowley wanted Aziraphale to come up with a punishment and surprise him. He had thought long and hard about it while practicing the knots over and over again. 

“If you can't behave yourself, I might have to keep you tied up here until I determine whether you can be trusted again. Do you want that, Crowley?”

He shook his head again. “No, Aziraphale. You can trust me. I'll be--I'll be good.”

Aziraphale smiled and stepped closer to him, threading his fingers through his soft auburn hair. “Thank you, darling. That's just what I wanted to hear.” He frowned slightly, then gripped a little tighter and Crowley gasped, his cock bobbing again. “I trust you to behave from now on. However, you still need to be punished for your past behavior. Do you agree?”

Crowley nodded, hissing as each movement caused Aziraphale’s hand to pull his hair further. 

“Good. Stand up, please.”

Crowley struggled to stand up with his hands behind his back and his gangly legs working against him. He stumbled forward before standing up straight. 

“Careful, dear.” Aziraphale made no move to help him. “Face the bed and bend over.” 

Crowley inhaled sharply and obeyed. Aziraphale bit his lip as Crowley bent over the bed, his long legs forcing his arse up into the air, his cock dark and heavy between his thighs. 

“Lovely.” He miracled his trousers and underwear to the chair in the corner of the room, sighing as his own hard cock sprung free. He walked slowly towards Crowley and groaned as he pressed his length against his arse. Crowley gasped softly. Aziraphale ground his hips against him, lightly running his nails across his back and down the sides of his thighs. 

“I'm glad you see the value in this punishment, Crowley. It will help to reinforce that bad behavior will be disciplined and good behavior rewarded. Now.”

He paused a moment and held his breath. He stepped back slightly, raised his hand, and swung down to strike Crowley’s right cheek. 

Crowley let out a sharp gasp and leaned forward before pushing back towards Aziraphale again and groaning. “_Fuck_.”

Aziraphale stood frozen for a moment. The sharp crack of his hand hitting Crowley, Crowley’s inhale, and then the pale red mottling blooming on Crowley’s skin rendered him speechless. He had been worried, before they started, that he would hit Crowley once and be so distraught about it, he'd have to call the scene early. But this… the way Crowley keened back towards him eagerly despite his body’s awkward position, seemingly finding pleasure through the pain. 

He _ached_.

He struck Crowley again, slightly below the first blow. Then hit the other cheek. 

“Three,” Crowley exhaled and Aziraphale's breath caught. 

“_Yes_, you perfect creature. Keep counting.”

He continued to deliver blows, Crowley counting each one off. Seven and eight hit one right after the other and Crowley panted them out in one breath. 

He dealt the tenth right where he hit the first and then held his hand there, feeling the heat radiating from Crowley’s skin. Crowley’s breath was ragged beneath him, his fingers flexing under their bonds. 

“I wish you could see yourself. You're taking this so well, darling. Do you think you've been punished enough?” His own breath was coming hard and he moaned softly as Crowley shook his head beneath him. 

“Been _very_ bad. Very… _evil_. And wily. So many wiles. Probably need--need ten more.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes affectionately and cooled the temperature of his hand before he ran it along Crowley’s hot skin. 

“You know, this doesn't seem to be an effective punishment if you're enjoying it this much.”

Crowley hissed at his cool touch. “No, this is torture. Absolutely. Although if you really wanted to get your _point_ across, you could hit--hit harder.” He pushed back against Aziraphale’s hand and Aziraphale gripped him tightly. His chest was pressed flat against the mattress and his cock steadily leaked precome. 

“How are your shoulders, dear? Are you sure you don't need a break?”

Crowley laughed softly. “Aziraphale. Punishment?”

“Right, yes.” He straightened up and made his tone more serious. “Very well. Ten more for being so _wicked_. And I will go _harder_ on you--” He thrust his hips forward for emphasis. “--because you seem so eager to be punished.”

As promised, he swung his hand down to hit the back of Crowley’s right thigh and the force of the strike knocked Crowley off his feet and the air out of his lungs. He gasped. 

“Crowley,” Aziraphale warned. 

“E-eleven.”

Aziraphale positioned him so he was kneeling on the bed. By stroke fifteen Crowley was crying, counting off in between small sobs and hitched breaths. 

He landed the last and immediately climbed onto the bed to run his hands over Crowley’s back and arms. His arse and thighs were a bright pink and he felt a swell of pride and ownership.

“Shh, my darling. It's over. You've done so marvelously,” he soothed. “You deserve a reward for taking your punishment well. What do you want, Crowley?”

Crowley hiccuped beneath him and took a deep, shuddering breath before saying “Please, angel. I need--need you. Inside. Please.”

“Of course, darling.” He miracled him open and Crowley whimpered. Aziraphale shuffled further on his knees and pressed the head of his cock against Crowley’s entrance. “Ready?”

Crowley pushed back and Aziraphale groaned. He pushed in to the hilt and laced his fingers with Crowley’s, who grabbed at him desperately. 

“You can come whenever you want, my love. You were so good for me today.”

He set a demanding pace and felt the heat radiating off of Crowley’s skin every time he thrust forward. Crowley hissed at the sting on his sensitive flesh. 

Crowley made little noises under him and squeezed Aziraphale’s hand so tight he felt his circulation cut off. Aziraphale leaned over him, shifting the angle deeper and reaching with his other hand to tug at Crowley’s cock. 

“Angel!” 

“Yes, come for me, I love you so much. Crowley--”

Crowley moaned and came in thick spurts over Aziraphale’s hand. He collapsed as far as he could at his awkward angle and Aziraphale thrust a few more times before crying out and spilling inside Crowley. He paused for a moment, savoring the feel of Crowley underneath him, around him. The heaviness of love and happiness and satisfaction that tugged on his heart. 

He slipped out of Crowley and snapped his fingers to remove the mess and the rest of his clothing. He then cradled Crowley in his arms and laid him on his side, rubbing up and down his arms soothingly. 

“I'm going to untie you now. Be careful when moving your arms - I imagine your shoulders are quite sore.”

He deftly untied the knots and Crowley moved his arms forward and rolled onto his back. He smiled lazily up at Aziraphale. 

“Hey.”

“Hello, Crowley.” He lifted Crowley’s wrists and kissed where the rope had dug into his skin. He moved Crowley’s arms around gently before running his hands over his shoulders to heal the ache. He made to move Crowley over to heal the sting in his arse but Crowley stopped him. 

“Leave it.”

Aziraphale frowned. “Are you sure? It'll smart when you need to sit down.”

Crowley nodded and Aziraphale laid next to him, draping his arm around the demon. Crowley turned on his side to face him and shifted closer, tangling their legs. 

“How are you feeling? I know we didn't fully discuss the last bit of that. I hope it wasn't too much.”

“Aziraphale. It was perfect. I… I like when you hurt me. I trust you to hurt me.”

Aziraphale nodded and reached up to stroke his cheek with his thumb, wiping away the residual tears. “Thank you. That sets my mind at ease. I admit, I didn't expect to enjoy it as much as I did, but. I did. I'd like to explore it further. There were some… _contraptions_ at the shop yesterday that caught my eye.”

Crowley stared at him. “Contraptions.”

“Oh well good lord, Crowley, I don't know what they're all called.”

“Yes, well next time we go we’ll ask the nice woman about some sex contraptions.”

Aziraphale huffed and turned over. “I'm not talking to you for at least an hour.” 

He felt Crowley kiss the back of his neck. “Mm, want to lay a wager on it?”

Aziraphale turned back over and smiled. “Oh, my dear, I didn't tell you about the _dreadful_ man who came into the shop earlier…”

* * *

“Let's go for a picnic.”

Crowley gave him a bewildered look and looked at his watch. “Angel, it’s half-three. It's late November.”

“Exactly, and the sun is out! It's never out this time of year. One last hurrah before dreary winter really sets in.”

“Angel, I am going to freeze.”

“I'll make it worth your time and I'll keep you warm.” Crowley grumbled. “I'll bring several bottles of wine, too.”

Crowley sighed loudly. “We both know I'm going to say yes anyway so let's get it on with.”

Aziraphale beamed. “Thank you, dear. Now, I'll get a basket together and you gather the picnic blanket. And probably several of the heavy blankets, too, and make sure to wear layers - it's bound to get cold.”

Crowley stared in disbelief but then went to fetch the blankets. Aziraphale found their picnic basket and miracled it full of cheeses, grapes, jellies, crackers, and some petit fours for dessert as well as several bottles of Crowley's favorite wine. 

He wandered into the bedroom where he found Crowley wearing Aziraphale’s cream cable-knit jumper he had worn several weeks ago and holding two thick woolen blankets. 

“These going to be enough? It's going to get colder than you think.”

“We have miracles, dear. We’ll be fine. I promised I'd take care of you, yes?” He raised Crowley’s hand and kissed his palm. Crowley blushed faintly. 

“Yeah, okay.” Crowley waved his hand and the blankets and basket disappeared into the Bentley’s backseat. “You need to put on something warmer, too. I don’t want to hear you complaining about any chill when we get wherever we’re going. Where are we going, by the way?”

“There’s a spot out in the country I’ve been wanting to take you to for some time now. It’s absolutely lovely and the views are second to none. And yes, let me just--” Aziraphale waved his hand over his body and he stood in a pale blue knit jumper that matched Crowley’s, a tartan collar peeking out of the top. He smiled. “Let’s go.”

They drove out of London, Aziraphale providing directions as they went. He finally instructed Crowley to pull over to the side of a small road. “It’s just up ahead here. We have to hike a little, I’m afraid.”

“‘The sun is out!’” Crowley mocked as he exited the car and retrieved the blankets from the back. “The sun is hardly up now!” 

“Crowley, please trust me. We’re going to have a lovely picnic.”

They walked up a large hill to a small flat area near a sprawling tree. Aziraphale looked out over the horizon with a small smile on his face. Rolling hills of vermillion and gold and brown were spread out before them. In the far distance, the light of a single cottage shone. 

“I mean, look at the view, Crowley. Isn’t it magnificent? I’d like to bring you back here during the summer, too, when everything is more verdant.”

“Yeah, it’s nice.”

Aziraphale shook his head affectionately before setting the basket down under the tree. Crowley shook the picnic blanket and smoothed it out before sprawling out lazily. “‘M cold, angel. I told you.”

“Yes, and I said I’d take care of it. Give me a moment.”

Crowley propped himself up on his elbows and watched as Aziraphale summoned a small glowing orb, emitting a soft, yellow light and a comfortable warmth that surrounded the area. Crowley scooted closer to the orb and set his sunglasses aside. “Toasty. Thank you.”

Aziraphale set up the spread and poured them each a glass of wine. Crowley sat up as Aziraphale handed him the glass. 

“To us.”

“To us.”

They toasted and Aziraphale set about digging into the food and picked up the book he brought along. Crowley basked in the warmth of the light and continued to pour himself wine while staring off into the setting sun. 

After Crowley had finished off a bottle, he took the bowl of grapes and planted himself sideways on Aziraphale’s lap, stretching his long legs over his thigh. Aziraphale set his book down and wrapped one arm around his waist and rested the other on Crowley’s thigh to support him.

“Well, hello, dear.”

“Mm, hi.” He plucked a grape from the bowl on his lap and held it to Aziraphale’s lips. Aziraphale accepted it happily and gently nipped his thumb before he could pull away. He finished chewing and Crowley kissed him softly. 

“You didn’t bring any apples so I figured the next best thing to tempt you with was the grapes. And how much more indulgent can you get? A very attractive demon hand-feeding you grapes. You’re very lucky, angel.”

He gave a small smile. “Yes, I am.”

Crowley fed him grape after grape and pressed slow kisses to his face after each one. Aziraphale felt a dull heat roaring to life in his gut. His hand gripped tighter around Crowley’s waist and his other started slowly stroking his thigh. 

Crowley set the bowl aside and his hands came up to either side of Aziraphale’s face. He stared, the same dull heat in his glowing eyes, and kissed him, slipping his tongue past Aziraphale’s lips. Aziraphale hummed and slid his tongue along Crowley’s before sucking it further into his mouth.

Aziraphale had spent their entire friendship trying to close himself off physically from Crowley. He had yearned to touch him for so long that he enacted measures to make sure it didn’t happen more than necessary. Always a foot of space between them to stop shoulders brushing. Hands held clasped together to stop him from reaching out. Anything to not give Crowley more false hope than he already did. Anything to keep them _safe_.

But once he had given himself _permission_ to touch him, after he gripped Crowley’s hand tight on the bus, floodgates of desire opened and hadn’t closed since. And not just his seemingly insatiable sexual desire. Just the simple fact of _touching_ Crowley made him feel more at ease, more loved, more _whole_ than anything else ever had. 

He touched Crowley every opportunity he had now. A hand at the small of his back as they moved past each other. Fingers brushing against his ankles as he stretched languorously on the couch during his afternoon naps. Arm in arm while strolling through the park. Touching Crowley settled the part of his heart that never seemed to rest. 

He was lucky Crowley seemed just as keen to stay connected as he was.

Crowley sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and bit gently. Aziraphale groaned, his fingers playing staccato on Crowley’s thigh as his desire increased. 

He pulled back and lifted Crowley’s now-full wine glass to his thin lips. “My turn to tempt you.”

His other hand came up to brush the hair at Crowley’s temple before cradling the back of his head. He tilted the glass and Crowley drank it down eagerly. His gaze never left Crowley’s and he felt Crowley’s grip tighten on his forearm. 

Wine spilled in a rivulet from his mouth and Aziraphale hummed disapprovingly. “So messy, darling. Where are your manners?” He licked a broad stripe up Crowley’s chin before ducking his head to follow the trail of wine at his throat. He felt Crowley’s heart beating quickly under his lips and he grazed his teeth along his pulse point. Crowley whimpered. 

He sucked and bit at Crowley’s neck until several bruises bloomed. “Mine,” he whispered.

“Yours,” Crowley echoed.

Aziraphale’s eyes darted around Crowley’s features as if he hadn’t memorized them several millennia prior. He kissed Crowley a final time.

“I hate to be a tease--”

“That is _easily_ the biggest lie you’ve ever told.”

“--but I brought you here for another reason too. And it had to be at night, hence our late start. Can you grab the blankets and get comfortable? On your back.”

Crowley gave him an inquisitive look but reluctantly climbed out of his lap and situated himself beneath the heavy blankets. Aziraphale climbed beneath the blankets too, resting his head on Crowley’s outstretched arm and cuddled close. He miraculously heated the blankets and Crowley made a contented noise.

“We’re not sleeping out here, are we?”

Aziraphale made a face. “Goodness no. No, I’m just grateful the weather cooperated with the new moon. Here.” He snapped and the warm light he summoned earlier disappeared. Crowley inhaled sharply next to him.

The dark blue sky shimmered with stars, a heavy silver dusting that encompassed as far as they could see. He turned to look at Crowley and saw his mouth open in awe, the stars reflected in his eyes. 

“I know you’ve missed them with all the light pollution in London.”

Crowley swallowed and nodded. “I don’t drive out to places like this as often as I want. Honestly, angel, the stars make me sad sometimes.”

Aziraphale’s stomach dropped. “Oh, Crowley, I didn’t mean--”

Crowley turned to face him quickly. “No! No, no. Aziraphale, this is _perfect_.” He kissed his temple and held him closer. “This is… I mean, look at this!” He gestured broadly at the depths above him. Aziraphale smiled and turned his attention back above.

“Did you make any of these?” 

Crowley nodded. “See, look.” He took Aziraphale’s hand in his own and raised it to point at a bright star and then traced a w-pattern. “That constellation is Cassiopeia. And beyond that, you have the Heart Nebula and the Soul Nebula. Or Sharpless 2-190 and Sharpless 2-199. The science-y names are boring. Anyway, I made those.” 

Aziraphale’s heart swelled with pride. “Do you know all the names or just the ones you made?”

“I know the names of most of it. The names they have now and the names they used to have. See, like--” He used Aziraphale’s hand to point again. “There’s Ursa Major and Ursa Minor. Those are easy - kids know those. See? You can see the Dippers. And between them is Draco. There’s the head - and then all along there is the body and the tail.” 

He paused and frowned. “I never got to name mine.”

“Let’s name them now, then. Those three over there--” Aziraphale moved their hands and pointed off towards the left. “That’s Trevor.”

Crowley threw his head back in laughter, his mouth open wide and the lines on his face deep with joy. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes and he kept laughing openly. Aziraphale couldn’t stop looking at him, tears threatening to spill from his own eyes at how happy, how _vulnerable_ Crowley was. He gazed adoringly and Crowley looked back at him with the same level of adoration before turning back to the sky.

“Yeah, all right. Trevor. Okay. So that group over there - that one’s Alec. And this one right next to him is Ellie.”

They named a few more, laughing at each one, before they lowered their arms and just looked at the shining splendor before them.

“It really just makes you feel small, doesn’t it?”

Aziraphale stayed quiet, holding Crowley’s hand on his chest and stroking his thumb. 

“I mean, there’s a trillion stars just in the Milky Way. Then you have the rest of the universe! I helped make them and it’s still just so much bigger than me. The humans - their lives mean nothing in the grand scheme of it all. They don’t matter. But they do. They matter so much, Aziraphale. These brilliant _idiots_.”

Aziraphale turned towards him and saw that he was properly crying. He knitted his eyebrows in concern. “Crowley?”

Crowley’s bottom lip wobbled and it broke Aziraphale’s heart. “Darling, are you all right?”

“Yeah, angel. It's just. I almost didn’t have this,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “This--this stargazing date. And picnics. And you holding my bloody hand like you’re trying to single-handedly warm up every cell in my body. And kissing you. And these bruises on my neck. This is. I never thought I could be this happy. Ever. It's better than anything I ever thought I would have with you.”

“Crowley, look at me, please.” 

Crowley turned to face him and Aziraphale cupped his cheek and squeezed his hand. “I'm sorry it took so long, that _they_ stole that time from us. But we are together now and it’s _so good_ isn't it? Better than anything.”

Crowley nodded. 

“I love you, Crowley. I hope you never tire of hearing it because I want to say it to you every moment we're together.”

Crowley chuckled. “I spent 6000 years not hearing you say it. Trust me, it'll take at least as long before I even think about getting tired of it.”

Aziraphale smiled and pulled him close, kissing him tenderly and trying to pour every ounce of love and reassurance into Crowley. Crowley's hand came up to tangle in his hair. 

They smiled at each other. 

“I love you, Aziraphale.”

“I love you too, Crowley.”

“Time to go home?”

Aziraphale nodded and they sat up, gathering their belongings and walking down the hill to the Bentley.

They entered the car and Crowley immediately turned the heating on. 

“Worth the trip?”

“It always is with you, angel.”

* * *

They decided to spend the night at Crowley’s and arrived back to the flat shortly after ten. As they waited for the elevator to the penthouse, Aziraphale noticed his back and legs were stiff, no doubt from the hike and from laying on the ground. He winced as he moved his neck from side to side.

Crowley immediately glanced at him. “You all right?”

Aziraphale waved his hand. “Just some sore muscles. I’ll take care of it when we get up to the flat.” The elevator door opened and they stepped inside. Crowley fidgeted next to him.

“Are _you_ all right?”

“‘Course. I could… give you a massage, if you’d like. Save a miracle.”

Aziraphale glanced sideways. “Oh, I don't want you to have to--”

“I want to do it,” Crowley said quickly, in that tone he always affected when he was trying to appear nonchalant. “Come on. I've been told I'm very good at it. How long has it been since you've had a proper massage, not just a miracle?”

He sighed. “It _has_ been a very long time. Wait - who have you been massaging?”

Crowley grinned at him in the reflective surface of the elevator doors and moved to wrap his arms around him from behind. Aziraphale tilted his neck to give Crowley better access as he peppered kisses down it. 

“Mm, jealous, angel?”

“Just want to know if I need to _strongly suggest_ to anyone that you already belong to someone.” 

Crowley growled against his neck. “Yours.”

“_Mine_.”

The doors opened with a chime and Crowley reluctantly stepped back to make their way to the penthouse door. “And nothing to worry about - just some information gathering and dissemination throughout the years. You'd be shocked by how much illicit political activity goes down in high-end spas.”

Aziraphale followed Crowley into the flat, so much homier now that he had been spending more time there. Tartan blankets (black and grey, in an attempt to match Crowley’s aesthetic) donned the back of the new couch. A phonograph sat in the background and Crowley had even let him bring several bookcases that were scattered throughout the flat. His favourite new touch was the beautiful antique telescope he had found at an estate sale (as well as the highest-end modern home model money could buy - and Aziraphale could). 

“Do you want anything to drink?” 

He shook his head. “No, thank you. I'm mostly eager to experience these very good massage skills you claim to have.”

Crowley grinned excitedly. “You just wait, angel. I'm pulling out all the stops. You're gonna get candles, aromatherapy, my very exquisite fingers all over your perfect, plush, naked body.”

Aziraphale gasped in mock outrage. “You sly thing. I knew you had an ulterior motive.”

Crowley threw up his hands in a “who me?” gesture and strolled towards the bedroom. “Come along, angel.”

Aziraphale followed and smiled at the soft touches of him here as well - more bookcases, a comfy reading chair and ottoman with several throw pillows, a pair of his cufflinks in a dark wooden dish on the table. Sharing their lives, bleeding into each other's spaces like this, had been so inevitable that when it finally happened it took hold swiftly and with much enthusiasm. 

He lifted his jumper over his head, folded it, and placed it on the ottoman before starting on his buttons. As he undressed, he watched Crowley walk around the room, waving his hands and conjuring dozens of white candles. Crowley turned to look at him over his shoulder, harsh features soft in the warm light, and grinned before returning to his task. 

Oh, Aziraphale loved him. His demon. The most precious creature in Her creation. 

He pulled his trousers and underwear down, toed off his socks, and stood back up to find Crowley playing with one of the candles. He dripped the wax over his hand and winced before watching it slide slowly over his skin. He looked mesmerized by it.

“Crowley?”

Crowley’s head shot up and he placed the candle on the dresser, wiping the wax free from his hand. 

“Sorry, angel. Just got distracted. Now.” He clapped his hands together. “What scent would relax you? Anything you want.”

Aziraphale thought back to one of their first official dates when he brought Crowley to Kew Gardens. They hadn’t stopped holding hands or smiling at each other the entire time, like teenagers, but they didn’t care. Several hours into their tour, Crowley found a secluded spot and the heady scent of honeysuckle in the late summer heat had enveloped him as Crowley crowded him against the wall. “Been wanting to do this since the first Garden,” he had whispered in his ear. 

The effect had been dizzying.

His eyes fluttered and then he looked at Crowley, licking his lips. “Honeysuckle. If you wouldn’t mind.”

He saw recognition flash in Crowley’s eyes and a faint blush spread over his face as he snapped and the same heady honeysuckle aroma permeated the air. He inhaled deeply, felt the ghost of Crowley pressed against him, whispering all sorts of filthy things in his ears about what he would have done if he was allowed to _touch_ back in Eden. 

His cock twitched and Crowley’s eyes flickered down. He grinned. “Now who has ulterior motives?”

“Hush. I better be _spectacularly_ relaxed after this is all over. That’s what you promised me.”

Crowley nodded. “I did.” He snapped his fingers to remove his own clothes and then gestured to the bed. “Face down first.”

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow but walked over to the bed. “Is the masseuse also supposed to be naked? That’s never been the case before. I’m afraid of what these supposed ‘high-end spas’ you were working at actually did.”

“It’s a very special technique. It’s called ‘We were touch starved for over 6000 years and now I’m taking my fill.’ Now relax, angel. Let me take care of your _aching_ body.”

“Menace,” he muttered but settled into the mattress and closed his eyes, savoring the cool silk under his skin. He heard Crowley uncap a bottle and rub his hands before shifting down near Aziraphale’s feet.

Crowley lifted his right foot and slowly dug his thumbs into the arch, the warm oil on his hands sliding smoothly over Aziraphale’s skin. Aziraphale moaned softly, already feeling more relaxed and like the tension was leaking out of his body. 

“Make as much noise as you need, angel. I really want to do this for you. Earlier tonight. You. You _care_ about me so much. I want to show you the same.”

He moved onto the ball and heel, tugged each toe and placed a kiss to the big one before placing it down and moving onto his left foot. He swept his hands in firm, gentle strokes from his ankle to his upper thigh and back down before kneading into his calves. Aziraphale sighed deeply and melted into the mattress.

As Crowley moved up to his thighs, he felt a quiet heat building in him. It wasn’t pressing, wasn’t insistent. He was too relaxed to feel any sense of urgency. But as Crowley grabbed and kneaded at his thighs, his buttocks, as he dug his fingers and elbows into particularly tough points of pressure, the warmth stirred and coiled in his gut and spread like molasses throughout his whole body. 

Crowley straddled his waist and he grunted at the sudden weight. He felt the heat between Crowley’s thighs at the small of his back but Crowley didn’t seem like he would stop so he continued to exist in half-consciousness, only the feel of Crowley’s hands and his own arousal pressing into the bed keeping him tethered to the world.

“How are you feeling?” Crowley spoke softly as he moved his hands in large sweeps across either side of his spine. “More or less pressure? Good?”

“ ‘S good,” he mumbled. “Very good fingers.” Crowley pressed firmly into his lower back before releasing the pressure quickly and moving to a different spot. A spike of pleasure radiated throughout him.

Crowley moved just under his shoulder blades and Aziraphale inhaled sharply as he pressed on a tender spot. He felt Crowley prod it with a couple fingers. 

“How does someone with your lifestyle get a knot this big right here?”

Aziraphale tried to shrug but he couldn’t muster the muscle control in his hazy state. “Dunno. S’pose it’s dealing with an insufferable demon all day.”

“Ha ha.” He dug his thumb into the spot for several long seconds before releasing it. He attended to the rest of his upper back before resting his hands and drumming his fingers.

“All right?”

“Yeah. When was the last time you had someone groom your wings?”

Aziraphale sighed. “Seeing as you’re the only person I would trust to see, let alone groom, my wings, whenever you last did. I do them myself every couple months.”

“Can you--?”

Aziraphale twitched his shoulders and breathed deeply as his wings manifested. Tingles spread through him as he felt Crowley run his fingers gently through the feathers. 

“You’re beautiful, Aziraphale. Do you know that? Absolutely gorgeous.” Aziraphale let out a loud groan as Crowley worked the muscle at the base of his wings. “Wish I could see you like this more often.”

Crowley moved along the top of his wings, rolling the thin skin under his hands to get to the muscle beneath before straightening and preening his feathers. After several minutes he felt Crowley bury his face in his wings.

“Crowley?” 

“Soft,” Crowley answered. He combed his fingers through his wings one last time. “You don’t have to put them away, but I need you to at least fold them in so I can get to your shoulders.”

He tucked them neatly back into non-existence and Crowley’s hands gripped and tugged firmly at the tops of his shoulders, his shouldercaps. He moved his thumbs in slow circles at the sides of Aziraphale’s neck and spine, pressing into the hollow at the base of his skull.

Crowley swung his leg back over Aziraphale’s waist to get better access to his arms and he whimpered at the loss of heat. Crowley lifted his hand and kissed his palm. “Not much longer now.” Then Crowley’s thumbs massaged his palm, lightly tugged his fingers, ran up and down his arms in controlled strokes.

He kissed his knuckles before leaning in. “Time to turn over.”

Aziraphale made a discontented noise. “Legs are jelly. Can’t move.”

Crowley sighed. “Gotta do all the work here, as usual. Come on.” He gently maneuvered Aziraphale onto his back and exhaled softly as he saw his flush cock, hard against his stomach. 

“_Gorgeous_.”

Aziraphale hummed. His eyelids were still too heavy to open. 

Crowley lifted his head and placed it in his lap. “I'm going to massage your head and your face now. Is that okay?”

Aziraphale nodded and hummed approvingly as Crowley's long fingers threaded through his hair, running along his skull in soothing motions. He traced the shells of his ears and massaged his earlobes. Pressed gentle circles into his temples and his cheeks. His fingers trailed lightly down his jaw and he pulled gently, maneuvering his neck back and forth until he felt a satisfying pop. 

Crowley's hands continued to play with his curls and he sensed a shadow suddenly block the candlelight. He realized Crowley was leaning over him, kissing his forehead, his cheeks. He smiled dopily when Crowley reached his mouth. 

“Thank you, darling.”

Crowley kissed the tip of his nose. “Relaxed?”

“Beyond comparison. If I manage to get out of this bed in the near future, it'll be a--well, it might literally be a miracle.”

“You're still far too coherent.”

Crowley slid down next to him and straddled his thigh. His hands, still slick with oil, skimmed up his plush middle before settling just under his nipples. Crowley brought the hard peak under his thumb and massaged in easy circles. 

Aziraphale opened his eyes for the first time since the massage began and saw Crowley staring down at him hungrily. 

“Crowley,” he croaked. Electric pleasure shot through him, cutting through the heavy fog of relaxation. His cock twitched and leaked precome, his arousal slowly becoming less muted. 

Crowley smiled affectionately. “Sorry, angel. Felt a knot and wanted to give it the attention it deserved.” He continued to play with his left nipple as he rolled the right one between his thumb and forefinger. 

The honeysuckle, Crowley’s fingers, Crowley's slick gathering on his thigh… it was so _good_. He luxuriated in the slow rolls of heat that ran through his body. He never wanted it to end. But he also _wanted_. 

“Darling, touch me.”

“Anything, angel.”

Crowley finally, _finally_ brushed his cock and ran his palm firmly from tip to perineum and back up again. Aziraphale whined and pressed up against his hand. Crowley obliged and took his shaft in hand, using the other to gently cup and massage his balls. He set a slow pace, just as languorous as the massage had been. Aziraphale smiled at him again.

“Luxurious,” he muttered, slurring over the vowels.

Crowley looked up at him. “Yeah, well. You deserve it.” He continued to stroke Aziraphale but slipped his other hand lower, pressing his index finger against Aziraphale’s entrance. “Yeah?”

“_Yes_,” he breathed. Crowley dipped his finger in, still slick from the massage oil, and Aziraphale groaned. 

Crowley slid his finger in and out and Aziraphale gasped and clenched around him when he brushed up against his prostate. Crowley grinned. 

“Could do another kind of massage too, Aziraphale.” He slowly inserted his middle finger and Aziraphale pushed down against him. Crowley let him adjust before crooking his fingers up and moving them until he rubbed firmly over his prostate. 

Aziraphale cried out. Crowley ran his fingers over his prostate again before massaging insistently. Every pass felt like a shock and caused more liquid to dribble out of his cock. 

“How does it feel?” Crowley whispered, his eyes trained on every microexpression on Aziraphale’s face. “How do you feel?”

“Perfect, talented thing. Keep _going_.”

Crowley continued to massage his cock, his prostate, moving so steadily and slowly. He was burning and it just wasn’t _enough_.

He floated, hovering just in the space before orgasm, desire coiled in every cell of his body. Until Crowley pressed his prostate and twisted the head of his cock _just so_ and Aziraphale was coming, orgasm hitting him like a freight train and radiating throughout his whole body in waves, his blood rushing in his ears. He cried out and thick ropes of come shot across his chest and spilled over Crowley’s hand. 

He finally came down, Crowley offering soft encouragements, and opened his eyes. Crowley looked at him with so much _love_, the stuff pouring off of him in waves, and he removed his fingers from Aziraphale and flicked his wrist to clean up the mess. 

“Come here, love.”

Crowley waved his hand again to vanish the candles and the scent of honeysuckle before crawling into bed beside Aziraphale and pulling the covers over both of them. He wrapped his limbs around him and held him close. Aziraphale managed to wrangle enough control over his muscles to scratch along Crowley’s back.

“Thank you so much. I feel absolutely marvelous. Don’t have a bone left in my body.”

“I’d say.” He felt Crowley’s smile against his chest.

“You’re not funny, Crowley.”

“I’m _hilarious_.”

“Yes, well. There’s no accounting for taste.” He paused. “Really, thank you, dear. You take such good care of me.”

Crowley looked up at him. “Of course. I meant it, angel. _Anything_. It was really just a thank you for the picnic, too. It made me feel so… _known_. I’ll take you to see them one day, the stars I made.”

Aziraphale smiled. “I’d love that. For now, I think I might actually sleep tonight. Oh, but. Do you need? I mean--”

Crowley shook his head. “I wanted to do that for you. Besides, I don’t think you’d be very effective without any _bones_.”

Aziraphale closed his eyes. “Not funny.”

“_Hilarious_.”

* * *

“I'd like to try something.”

Aziraphale looked up from a disappointing plate of cremini risotto. A new Italian restaurant had opened up several blocks from the shop that had promised fresh, modern takes on classic Italian favorites. So far their fresh, modern takes had included soggy arancini and poorly breaded calamari. Crowley’s pasta was also underwhelming - clearly no seasoning had encountered the dish at any step in the process. 

He set his fork down and gave Crowley an earnest look. “Of course, dear. What did you have in mind?”

Crowley looked at the pathetically flickering candle that was sat between them and smudged a bit of the wax that had poured onto the table with his thumb. 

“Do you remember the massage I gave you?”

“It was only a couple of days ago, so yes.”

Crowley fixed him with a pointed glare. “Do you remember the candles?”

“Darling, _yes_. It was an incredible massage but I wasn't so relaxed I was unaware.”

“I'd like… to do something with the candles. With the wax.”

Aziraphale quirked his eyebrow, his interest piqued. Crowley plowed through. 

“I want to be naked and I want you to drip hot wax on my skin. They make special candles now so it's not too hot. But it should still be hot enough.” Crowley took a sip of wine and scrunched his nose in disgust. The wine was disappointing, too. 

He remembered the way Crowley’s face looked when he played with a candle before the massage, remembered the way it slid slowly down his skin.

“So this would hurt you?”

Crowley nodded and licked his lips. “Should do.”

“And it's just the wax. You don't want me to-to burn you?” 

He could tell Crowley could read his worries under the question. He reached for his hand and Aziraphale squeezed it. 

“No, no flames on me. Just the wax. I think we've both had enough fire for awhile.”

Aziraphale nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, let's do it. I want to. I think that would look rather lovely, don't you? The wax against your skin?”

Crowley squeezed his hand thankfully and then withdrew it. “They make them in loads of different colors, too.”

He perked up and leaned closer towards Crowley. “Oh! Do you think they'll have the colors at the sex shop?”

Crowley chuckled fondly. “Yes, they have them at the _sex shop_. We can go look at them after you have dessert.”

Aziraphale frowned as he glanced towards the menu still on the table. “The food here has been just awful. I don't think I want any dessert.”

Crowley looked concerned. “That bad? Angel, you have to have dessert. How about I get you a box of macarons from that bakery you love so much? The one with the blue boxes?”

Aziraphale’s eyes crinkled and he smiled demurely. “Oh, maybe not a whole box.”

“Nonsense. Weren't you just talking about one of their new flavors?”

Aziraphale groaned. “_Yes_, a black sesame.” He looked down at his mushy, flavorless risotto. “You know, it might take a whole box to forget about this abysmal meal. All right, let's go.”

They left enough cash to cover the bill and then some and slipped out the front door before their overeager waiter could notice their escape. 

They walked to the bakery where Aziraphale delighted over the colorful desserts. The clerk placed his selections in a long, powder blue box and they left. 

Aziraphale slid the box open, eyes gleaming, and carefully selected a black sesame macaron. He bit into it and closed his eyes in pleasure, savoring the soft chew of the shell, the flash of spice from the sesame. He let out a soft moan. 

“Incredible. The _perfect_ palate-cleanser.”

He opened his eyes and Crowley’s mouth twitched. 

“What?”

“I adore you. Now come on, off to the _sex shop_.”

Aziraphale tutted but kept pace with Crowley as they went. He smiled to himself when Crowley reached into the box to pluck out a raspberry macaron, his favorite flavor, and popped it in his mouth. He had picked it especially for him. 

They visited the shop and Aziraphale purchased several of every color candle they had. Then he went to work doing his own research. 

Two days later, they stood in Crowley's plant room, a soft (miraculously flame-retardant) tartan blanket spread out across the floor, the unlit candles gathered in one corner. 

“Are you sure you want them to see you like this?”

Crowley stalked around the room, glaring at each plant in turn. “If they know what's good for them, they'll know this doesn't change _anything_ about how I will treat them if they misbehave.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “You're a menace. Are you ready?”

Crowley nodded. 

“Strip down. No miracles, please.”

Crowley crossed his arms to grab at the bottom of his long-sleeved shirt and pulled it over his head. Aziraphale licked his lips as each new inch of skin was revealed to him. Crowley’s lithe form, all sharp angles and lean muscle, were the greatest temptation of his lifetime. He was happy he’d given in. What was the fun if Crowley couldn't win some every now and then?

Crowley unbuckled his belt and bent at the waist to push his jeans and boxer briefs down his legs. While he was preoccupied trying to pull them off his feet, Aziraphale removed his waistcoat and rolled his right sleeve up to his elbow. He got halfway up on his left sleeve when Crowley stood up and fixed him with a _hungry_ stare, like a snake hunting prey. Aziraphale flushed. 

“What?”

“Your forearms are _indecent_,” Crowley gritted out. 

Aziraphale looked down in confusion. He looked back up. “It's just my arms. You've seen me naked. Many times now.”

Crowley crossed over to him, his hips swaying even more powerfully somehow without clothes, and took Aziraphale’s sleeve from him, rolling it up the rest of the way before trailing his fingers up and down his forearms. 

“What if we called this whole thing off and you just spanked me for hours instead? There has to be a way for me to see your arms while you're doing it. Your muscles…” He dug his fingers in and Aziraphale inhaled sharply. “Maybe some leather gloves?” Crowley moaned at his own mental image. Aziraphale saw his cock stirring and he stepped back. 

“Do you want to call this off? We can try another day if you're not in the mood for it today.”

Crowley shook his head and took a deep breath to clear his thoughts. “No, I want to do this today. Just. The gloves. Something to file away, yeah?”

Aziraphale nodded and stepped back towards him, circling his arms around Crowley’s narrow waist. He kissed Crowley and ran his hands along the planes of his back. Crowley’s hands came up to cup his cheeks, running this thumbs along his cheekbones. 

Crowley broke the kiss and smiled. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Now, lie down, on your front, please.”

Crowley turned around to walk towards the blanket and Aziraphale gave him a quick smack on his arse. Crowley spun around and sputtered while Aziraphale plastered an innocent smile on his face. 

“_Lie down_, Crowley. I won't ask again.”

He heard Crowley grumble “Cheeky angel” before lying down, crossing his arms, and resting his head on them. 

Aziraphale took a moment to admire Crowley, a luxury after a lifetime of only really _looking_ through furtive glances or while drunk. The smattering of freckles on his back, constellations in their own right, and the slight pink tinge on Crowley's left buttock. 

Crowley lifted his head and looked over his shoulder. “You coming, angel?”

“_Patience_,” he growled. “Be good for me, yes?”

Crowley let out a quiet whimper and rested his head back on his arms. 

“Crowley.”

“_Yes_, Aziraphale. I'll be good.”

“Thank you, darling.”

Aziraphale gathered the candles and knelt down next to Crowley. He ran his fingers through Crowley’s hair before picking up a white candle and lighting the wick with his fingers. He waited for the wax to melt and pool in the pillar before holding it a foot above his own arm and dripping the wax. It hit his skin and he winced as it burned. Too close. He wiped the wax off and then held the candle higher. The wax stung and then cooled pleasantly. Good. 

He rested his hand on Crowley's lower back. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” he breathed. 

He held the candle and a large drip landed on Crowley’s left shoulder blade. He hissed at the contact but then hummed lowly. 

“How's the temperature? Not too hot?”

“ ‘S perfect.”

He continued to drip small circles of wax on Crowley’s skin before he angled it to hit his side. The wax traveled slowly and created a long white line down his ribs. 

“Beautiful,” he whispered before adding a few more lines next to it. Crowley’s muscles jumped slightly but he continued to breathe steadily. 

“I think red next.” He extinguished the white candle and lit the red. This time he drew long stripes across the breadth of Crowley's shoulders and back. When he reached his lower back, Crowley twitched and some of the cooled wax began to crack. 

“Crowley, you need to keep still so the wax doesn't break. Can you keep still for me?”

Crowley nodded, his face buried in his arms. 

“Good boy.”

He continued to make stripes lower and Crowley moaned when they painted his arse. Aziraphale spent some extra attention there, dripping small and large drops across his cheeks and upper thighs. Heat coiled in his gut and he felt himself get wetter as Crowley whimpered. 

“You're doing so well, darling. Being so good for me.” His voice was rough with arousal. “How does it feel? Are you doing okay?”

Crowley nodded. “Good. Great. Better than I thought it would.”

Aziraphale touched his shoulder in affirmation and then dug into the other colors, painting swirls and spots and lines with blue, green, yellow. 

After he finished with the purple, nearly the whole of Crowley’s back was covered with wax. He sat back on his legs and admired his handiwork

“You know, Crowley. I think I've made some nebulas of my own today. I wish I could preserve this somehow.”

“Take a picture. My phone. It's in my pocket - on the floor.”

He twisted the ring on his pinky. “Oh, are you sure? I don't want to impose…”

Crowley turned his head as far back as he could without disturbing the wax. “I want to see it, too.”

Aziraphale scooted and reached Crowley’s trousers, fishing his mobile out. The lock screen turned on and he saw the first selfie he ever took, with Crowley at Kew Gardens. Their cheeks were pressed together and they looked so _happy_. His heart swelled as he looked at the photo and then looked back at Crowley who was gazing at him with adoration. 

He unlocked the phone, navigated to the camera app, and took a close up picture of Crowley’s face. He smiled at the photo and then took a few more from several angles of his work. He took a picture of Crowley’s arse and heard an “oi” coming from his left. 

“Just making sure I get all the _important_ angles.”

He set the phone down and scooted closer to Crowley’s head. He threaded his fingers through his hair again and Crowley hummed. 

“Ready to take it off? I can do it by hand or I can just miracle it off.”

“Start by hand and I'll let you know.”

Aziraphale scratched his scalp and then removed his hand to start peeling the wax shell back. It cracked and crumbled in messy and inopportune ways, but as he pried larger pieces back, Crowley gasped softly and goosebumps would arise on his skin, quickly soothed away by Aziraphale’s warm touch. 

He worked down his body, delighting in how warm and pink Crowley’s skin was under the wax. Once he had removed most of it, he waved his hand over Crowley to remove the remaining bits of wax that clung to body hair and the blanket. He stood up and removed the rest of his clothes, setting them to the side, far out of the candles’ reach. 

“Turn over, dear.”

Crowley maneuvered himself on his back and groaned when he saw Aziraphale.. 

“Love when you have a cunt, angel.”

Aziraphale flushed. “Goodness, the mouth on you.” He paused thoughtfully. “I could put that mouth to use.”

Crowley growled and stared at his thighs hungrily. “I'll swear and blaspheme as much as I can if it means you'll sit that _divine_ cunt on my face.”

“That will be _quite_ unnecessary. You know I'll give you anything you’d like if you just ask nicely and if you've behaved, which you have. You've been _very good_.”

He'd never get tired of the way Crowley’s cock twitched at that. 

“I'd like to still use the candles, if that’s okay.”

Crowley nodded and extended his hands eagerly towards him. “Please sit on my face, Aziraphale.”

He grinned. “Well, if you _insist_.”

He knelt down over Crowley’s face and settled Crowley's hands on his thighs. 

“If you want to stop, just tap my thigh three times.” He tapped Crowley's hand to demonstrate. “You can move and put your hands wherever you want. Yes?”

“_Yes_.”

Aziraphale lowered himself and let out a low moan as he felt Crowley’s tongue run up his slit. He retrieved the white candle and lit it, waiting for the wax to pool before making small drops on Crowley’s chest. 

Crowley’s nails dug into his thighs on the first drip but then relaxed. His tongue probed farther and Aziraphale’s hips jerked forward. 

He angled the candle carefully and splashed the wax onto Crowley’s pert nipple. Crowley groaned as soon as it landed and pulled Aziraphale further onto his face, latching his lips around his clit and sucking hard. Aziraphale gasped and smudged the wax with his thumb around Crowley’s areola before pouring more onto the hard nub. He continued to alternate dripping wax and wiping it away with his thumb before turning the same attention to the other nipple. 

His toes _curled_ as Crowley’s moans reverberated through him. 

After he was done building up hard peaks of wax on his nipples, he painted stripes across Crowley’s stomach and down his ribs. Crowley grabbed his arse and spread his cheeks to give him better access, thrusting impossibly far with his tongue and fucking in and out of the angel. Aziraphale let out a high whine and dragged the nails of his free hand up Crowley’s chest. 

He looked at Crowley’s cock, so _perfect_ and _aching_ and held the candle higher than he had been and poured the wax on his cock.

He felt, more than heard, Crowley cry out underneath him and precome pulsed out. Aziraphale’s own orgasm was imminent as Crowley doubled his efforts, grinding his chin against his clit and nipping and sucking on his lips. 

He settled back on his legs and rolled his hips over and over. “Oh, keep going. Yes, _yes_. Crowley!” 

He came with a shout and vanished the candle in his hand before he had a chance to drop it. He continued to grind down on Crowley’s face and leaned forward, wrapping his hand around Crowley’s cock as Crowley chased his clit with his tongue. He gripped tightly and quickly fisted as his orgasm continued to pulse powerfully through his body. 

“Cro-Crowley. Come for me, come for me, darling.”

Crowley’s hands dug tightly into his thighs and he came, his cock jerking hard and shooting over his and Aziraphale’s chests, a small amount landing on Aziraphale’s chin. 

They both sat briefly to regain their breath before Crowley nudged Aziraphale's thigh and the angel swung his leg over to kneel next to him. Crowley sat up and gently pushed Aziraphale to the ground before diving back between his legs. 

“Oh, dear, I don't know if I can--_oh, yes_.” Crowley laved his tongue over Aziraphale's thighs, cleaning up his slick, before moving up and licking his own come off his chest in broad strokes. He sucked and bit his chin to get the last of it and then kissed Aziraphale deeply. 

Aziraphale wrapped his arms around him, scratching lightly at his back and groaning at the filthy taste of both of their come in Crowley’s mouth. He rolled onto his back next to Aziraphale and exhaled slowly.

“Well then.” Aziraphale could hear the smile in his voice without looking at him. He turned his head to answer back but saw Crowley still covered with wax and his own come. 

“Oh, dear. You’re filthy!” He waved his hand to remove the remaining mess from both of them. “I quite enjoyed that. Did it live up to what you imagined?”

“Better than. We should do it again, give you another chance to improve your art. Oh! Where’s my mobile? I want to see the pictures you took.”

Aziraphale patted his hand out to the side until he found the phone and handed it to Crowley. Crowley quickly unlocked it and flipped to the first photo, of Crowley’s face. 

“Disgustingly sentimental.” He couldn’t get it out without smiling. He swiped to the next one and made a thoughtful noise. “Nebulas, indeed. Look, the white even looks like stars. I’d seen pictures, but it's different when it's your own.” 

Aziraphale looked and looked and looked at him. At the bridge of his nose, the hollows of his cheeks. The flush on his face and his hair, plastered to his forehead with sweat. The way his lips curved up when he gave a small laugh at the close-up of his arse. _I love him. I have never loved anything or anyone more._

“Crowley?” Crowley looked at him. “I’m very fond of you.”

“Yeah, you’re lucky I like keeping you around, too.”

* * *

It wasn't often that Aziraphale was in a bad mood and even less often that he _started_ the day in a bad mood. 

He knew that he could be rather fussy. Particular. Frustrated, impatient, and sanctimonious. But not foul-tempered, never pessimistic. 

When he got into one of these moods, annoyed at everything before it even had a chance, he got annoyed at _himself_ for being irrational and unable to shake it. A self-perpetuating cycle of irritation until something inexplicably broke it. 

He closed the store only three hours after opening, simply unable to deal with a _single_ person even _thinking_ about entering the building. He had already taken a bath. He couldn't concentrate on a single book. He was about ready to just give up and try _taking a nap___ when he heard the bell chime above the shop door. He slammed his book down (a third edition, no harm) and stormed into the open area of the shop.

“We are _closed_! Why are you entering a bookshop if you can’t even _read_ a _si_\--” He stopped in his tracks when he rounded the corner and saw Crowley standing with a takeaway bag in each hand. 

“Uh, hi. Bad day, angel?”

Aziraphale’s shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry, Crowley, dear. Hello. Yes, I guess you could say so. I thought you had plans today?”

Crowley shrugged. “Finished early. Thought we could eat and watch a film or something. We can do something else.”

Aziraphale shook his head. Crowley was so kind to him. How could he feel awful when Crowley brought what smelled like and what he desperately hoped was Indian food to him by the bagful?

His heart still weighed heavy, empty thoughts still pacing insistently in the back of his mind. He smiled, though he could tell it didn’t reach his eyes.

“You’re so thoughtful, dear. I think that’s exactly what I need. Is that Indian food?”

Crowley frowned almost imperceptibly and looked down at the bags. “Yeah. Half of one of these is just samosas so I thought you’d be happy.”

He smiled again. He had done this millions of times - why weren’t his muscles doing what usually came naturally? “I am happy, thank you so much. Let’s go upstairs and grab a couple of plates, yes?” 

He gestured for Crowley to walk up the stairs and Crowley moved past him, glancing at him briefly before walking up the stairs to Aziraphale’s living space.

_Get it together. There’s nothing in particular to be upset about!_ he thought sternly before following Crowley.

Just as Aziraphale’s things and aesthetic had bled into Crowley’s flat, Crowley’s had infiltrated his. There was more greenery, definitely. His space had become a dumping ground for what Crowley called “the problem plants” that were thriving under Aziraphale’s gentler touch (and Crowley’s actual know-how of taking care of plants).

There was also more art, pieces Crowley had picked up through the years that he thought Aziraphale would also like. And then there was the television - sleek, modern, and imposing, hung over the mantle with care. Two of the built-in shelves next to the fireplace had been cleared for his Blu rays. 

Crowley was bent over the coffee table unloading several boxes and bags and Aziraphale made his way to the kitchenette to retrieve plates and silverware. He walked back over to the couch and gasped.

“Good lord, that is a _lot_ of samosas.” 

Crowley looked over his shoulder and flashed him a smile. “I like them too so I figured I should get a lot.”

Aziraphale helped him unpack the rest of the food and filled his plate as Crowley walked over to the shelf.

“What do you want to watch?”

“Hmm. Surprise me.”

Crowley pondered for a moment before selecting a film and placing it into the disc player. He sat down next to Aziraphale and loaded up his own plate. He took a big bite of samosa and said “Don’t say I never treat you, angel,” muffled through his full mouth.

“Don’t speak with food in your mouth, Crowley. Honestly.” A familiar triumphant tune began playing and three raincoat-clad figures with umbrellas appeared on the screen. Aziraphale clasped his hands together.

“_Singin’ in the rain, just singin’ in the rain…_”

He beamed at Crowley. “Oh, darling. What a perfect choice. Thank you.”

Crowley let out a breath and smiled back at him before taking another bite of food. They both turned back toward the television. 

Aziraphale felt his mood lightening with the food and the film and Crowley but there was still the underlying restlessness. His mind drifted as he finished his meal and tried fruitlessly to pinpoint his mood. 

He set his plate on the table and Crowley wrapped his arm around him. He pressed himself as tightly as he could against Crowley and Crowley pulled him close and kissed the top of his head fiercely. 

He felt so loved. He felt so frustrated. 

On the television, Don and Kathy danced on a soundstage and Aziraphale sighed. “Wouldn't it be lovely to be able to dance like that?”

Crowley made a non-committal noise. “We could take lessons.”

“That would be nice. I'm afraid neither of us are particularly good at dancing, though. I think I'd step all over your feet.”

“Speak for yourself, angel. I'm an expert dancer.” He fell silent and then hummed along with Don singing on screen. 

“_But I'm content / The angels must have sent / You and they meant / You just for me_.”

Aziraphale laughed softly but gripped Crowley’s hand tighter, nuzzled his head further under his chin. 

They continued to watch the movie and when the credits rolled, Aziraphale sighed deeply. Crowley cleaned up the takeaway with the flick of a wrist and pulled himself back to look at Aziraphale. 

“Did that cheer you up at all?”

Crowley looked so worried, slightly desperate and Aziraphale's heart broke. How could he explain that nothing was _wrong_, he just… He just. 

“Yes, it did.” Crowley looked unconvinced. “Sincerely, it did. I'm in a much better mood than I was. I just feel… restless. And frustrated with myself because there's no _reason_ I'm feeling this way.”

“I didn't do anything?” Crowley asked quietly. 

His heart broke further. Aziraphale raised his hand to cup his cheek. “No. Never. It's just me. It's like I need to _do_ something but I don't know what.”

Crowley swallowed and licked his lips. “Do me.”

He gave him a dead stare. “Crowley. Really?”

“I think it would help to let your frustration out. On me. _Use_ me. Whatever you want to do.”

Aziraphale frowned but he could feel his errant thoughts shift, like they were running _towards_ something rather than around and around nothing. 

“Darling, I don't know if I feel comfortable taking out any negative feelings on you.”

“I wouldn't say anything if I didn't think it would help. If you didn't _need_ this. And I want you to. Use me. Tell me what to do, anything, and I'll. I'll do it.”

Aziraphale bit his lip and looked deep into Crowley’s eyes. Crowley matched his gaze in intensity and he saw something twitchy in him that answered his own gnawing need. He nodded. 

“Okay. The first thing I want you to do is kiss me.”

Crowley smiled in relief. “Easy.”

Crowley closed the distance, kissing him tenderly but Aziraphale immediately deepened the kiss, sucking on Crowley’s bottom lip and slipping his tongue into his mouth. Crowley groaned as Aziraphale straddled his waist and pressed him into the couch. Crowley made to move his hands to the angel’s waist but Aziraphale grabbed his wrists and pinned them forcefully to either side of his head, earning another deep groan from Crowley.

He continued to kiss him, biting his lips, licking his teeth, sucking on his tongue. And Crowley matched him enthusiastically, responding to everything he did with fervor. He pulled back and looked at Crowley, his lips kiss-bitten and his hands still pinned to the couch. The look in his blown, golden eyes _yearned_, was so submissive Aziraphale could cry.

“Keep your hands where they are.”

He released Crowley’s wrists and Crowley held them in place. 

“I have a couple ideas, but, well. Let me see what I'm working with.” 

He unbuttoned Crowley’s tight jeans and slipped his hand under his waist band and found soft folds. He hummed and teased his fingers up and down the slit as he pondered his options. Crowley rocked his hips against his fingers but still kept his hands where Aziraphale told him to. _So obedient. Just for me_.

“I think I've decided,” he announced. “Go into the bedroom and lie down on the bed. Don't strip off. Put your hands above your head and wait for me.”

With every command he issued, with every command Crowley _obeyed_ he felt his mind calming. He waited a couple minutes before walking into the bedroom and finding Crowley exactly as he instructed. Crowley smiled at him.

He walked over to the dresser and retrieved their box of toys. He placed it on the bed and Crowley lifted his head to see over the lid. 

“Don't peek. You'll see soon enough.” Crowley’s head thunked back on the pillow. 

He dug around and then found what he was looking for: a vibrator about the size of his hand, bright pink and only slightly curved right at the end. It wasn't designed for penetration, but rather clitoral and external stimulation. He placed it on the bed and moved the box to the floor. 

He then undressed himself slowly, drawing out Crowley’s patience. Crowley looked at him hungrily. 

“You can speak, Crowley. I don't remember telling you you couldn't.”

“Just trying to be good, angel.”

“And you are being very good. But you know I like hearing your voice. The noises you make. Speak up today.”

Crowley nodded and then corrected himself. “Yes, Aziraphale.”

He finished undressing and got up onto the bed. He pulled Crowley’s jeans down so the waist rested at his mid-thigh and buttoned them to pin Crowley’s legs together. 

“So what's the plan?”

Aziraphale held up the vibrator and Crowley’s eyes widened. 

“I'm going to make you come over and over again until you're crying and begging me to stop.”

Crowley’s mouth gaped open and closed, unable to say anything. Aziraphale laid his hand reassuringly on his thigh, stroking with his thumb and waiting to see if Crowley was up to it. He had said anything but that didn't mean he couldn't say no. 

“Crowley.”

“Yeah. Yes. Okay.” 

Aziraphale turned the vibrator onto a medium setting and nestled it just between Crowley’s outer labia. The curved head pressed firmly against his clit and he gasped. 

Aziraphale straddled his waist and began touching himself, sliding his hand over his own labia and watching Crowley beneath him. He could feel the vibrator as he rocked up against Crowley and sighed. 

“Talk to me, Crowley. And keep your hands up.”

Crowley squeezed his own wrist and stretched his arms higher as if to remind myself. 

“You make me feel so good, Aziraphale.”

“Mm.”

“Love when I feel your weight on me. When you're on top of me like this. Fucking surrounded by you.”

Aziraphale slipped his fingers past his folds to rub at his clit and let out another sigh. He angled his hips to settle closer to the vibrator and Crowley let out a strangled yelp as it pushed harder into his clit. 

“Fuck’s sake, angel.”

“Mm.” He pushed two fingers inside himself and rolled his nipple between his fingers. He groaned. 

“_Fuck_, Aziraphale. C’mon. Let me touch you.”

Aziraphale frowned. “We are touching.”

Crowley hissed. “You know what I mean. I can manifest a cock and you can sink yourself down on it, work those sinful thighs, and I can play with your clit. Come on.”

God, that did sound good. But no. Crowley told him to work out his frustrations and he intended to do it. He probably indulged Crowley too often (preposterous) - he could stand to be denied. 

“No. I told you to keep your hands up.”

Crowley sputtered. “Okay, well, touch me then? You want to make me come over and over and over - touching me’s gonna get there faster. Fuck, angel, play with my nipples, scratch down my--”

“No.”

Crowley’s mouth opened in indignation. 

“Aziraphale, please. Please--” He gasped and whimpered high in his throat as the vibrator continued its work. He tried to move his hips so the pressure wasn't as insistent but his jeans and Aziraphale's thighs pinned his legs down, flush tight together. 

Crowley liked to project a cool image and to most people, he was successful. The sunglasses, the dark colors, his swagger. All of it screamed “I am aloof. I am unaffected. Nothing bothers me and feelings are uncool.”

It wasn't true, of course. Well, Aziraphale did think Crowley was cool (although he knew both of them were definitely decidedly _lame_ too), but Crowley was definitely affected and _felt_ more than nearly anyone he had ever known. 

So it was moments like this, when Crowley was so _open_, writhing beneath him and begging for his touch, unashamed in his desires and his feelings, that Aziraphale felt like he was full to bursting with love for him. Crowley gave him _this_. This knowledge that he was wanted, desired, _loved_ unashamedly and without reservation or condition. 

Why was he denying him anything?

He pushed Crowley’s t-shirt up with both hands, exposing his chest and Crowley nearly sobbed at his touch. 

“Tha-thank you, Aziraphale. Wait. No, no, no, angel, _come on_.”

Aziraphale removed his hands and continued to touch himself. Yes, _that_ was why. Denying Crowley was indulging him too - he loved it. 

“You know when we went stargazing and you said you didn't want to be a tease? That lie is bigger than you telling God you lost your flaming bloody sword.”

His nipples were peaked in the cool air without any attention. Aziraphale longed to touch, but there would be time. He was quickly reaching his own orgasm as his fingers continued to rub in circles over his clit, the vibrator sending pleasant tingles through him. 

“Darling.”

“Ye-yes?”

“Are you close?”

“_Yes_.”

“Good. Unfortunately, you can't come until I have twice.”

Crowley moaned and shut his eyes, trying to get his body under control. “_Cruel_, that’s what you are to me. Nothing but crue-elty and unf-f-fair treatment.”

“Mm. Lucky for you, I am quite close to my first so you won't have to wait _too_ much longer.”

Crowley turned his head and bit at the sensitive flesh at his inner arm. His fingers flexed repeatedly around his own wrist, determined to keep them in position. 

God, he was perfect.

Aziraphale raked his eyes over Crowley hungrily, taking advantage of his eyes being closed so Crowley couldn't see how desperate he was for it. Crowley was nosing at his own arm, trying to breath steadily through the insistent vibrations radiating through him. Every now and then he would gasp and whimper and bite again at his arm. Aziraphale wished it was his teeth sinking into his flesh. 

His thoughts were calming, focusing instead on the sole goal of making himself and Crowley feel _good_. He slid his finger through his slick, little bolts shooting through him, and pressed hard on his clit. He cried out and came, bucking his hips forward, his walls pulsing and clit twitching. He opened his eyes and Crowley’s were still shut tight, his face pressed into his own arm and breathing heavily. 

“Darling.”

Crowley barely turned his head towards him. 

“You've done so well keeping your hands up all by yourself. Do you want the cuffs so you have some help?”

Crowley nodded. 

“I'm going to lower the intensity to give you some time to breathe. I need you to keep your legs closed while I'm not right here. Yes?”

He nodded again and Aziraphale snapped to turn the vibrator down while keeping it in position. He climbed off of him and picked the box off the floor. He found the leather cuffs and pulled out a thin metal chain as well before placing the box back and crawling onto the bed again. 

He took Crowley’s hands gently, rubbing the spots where Crowley's nails had dug into his flesh and pressing soft kisses to them before clasping the soft leather cuffs around his wrists and securing them to the bed. 

He straddled Crowley’s waist again and cupped his cheek in his hand. Crowley looked at him desperately, eyes shining. 

“You've been so good. Just one more for me now and then you can come. I _am_ going to make it just a little bit more difficult for you but I know that you can do this for me.”

Crowley nearly sobbed when Aziraphale dragged his nails down his chest and then pinched his nipple between his fingers, only for it to turn into a frustrated groan when Aziraphale set the clamp in place. He clamped the other nipple and gave the chain a gentle tug which produced a strangled noise from Crowley’s throat. 

“I am going to _discorporate_,” he said between gritted teeth. 

“Well, that will be unfortunate for multiple reasons so be a dear and keep yourself under control.”

He turned the vibrator up again and sat directly on top of it. He rubbed his still-sensitive clit and held the chain in his other hand. 

“Crowley, talk to me.”

He shook his head and took a deep, shuddering breath. “I-I can barely _think_.”

“Anything. Even if it's incoherent.”

“Don't understand how _you’re_ always so coherent during sex.” He took another deep breath. “You make me feel so fucking good. E-even when you’re being a-a-_ah_. A bloody _tease_.”

Aziraphale was already close again, the not-quite-pain of his oversensitive clit pushing against the vibe sent bolts through him. But he wanted to hold out a little longer, wanted to see how close he could push Crowley to the edge. 

“You always say I make you feel good, but do you have any idea of the effect you have on _me_, Crowley?” He spoke in low tones, steadily rubbing himself and grinding down against Crowley. “Having someone who lets me tie them up and do absolutely anything I want with them? Who trusts me to do that? Who looks as _gorgeous_ as you do when you're trying so hard to be good? You make the most delicious sounds when you're close. I want to fuck you for days, keep you right on that edge, just so I can live in those sounds. And you'd let me, my _obedient_ demon, just because I asked. _Fuck_.”

He hadn't meant to work himself up so much, but Crowley was beneath him making _those sounds_, drinking his words up, and pulling on his restraints. He spread his lips with his fingers and slid his middle finger quickly along his clit. He was so fucking wet. 

“Crowley, I'm about to--I'm about to come. Are you ready? After me, after me. Crowley!”

His orgasm rocked through his body and he forced himself to keep his eyes open to watch Crowley who was watching him, too, with rapt attention. He tugged on the chain and Crowley shouted, his back arching up as much as he could, the muscles in his arms straining as he pulled against the cuffs. Aziraphale drank in the sight of him eagerly and maneuvered off of his body once Crowley had come down. 

He held his hand against the vibrator to keep it in place and tapped it to increase the speed. Crowley let out a cry. 

“Azira--ph-phale, please, I can’t. Too much.” Without Aziraphale sitting on his legs, he squirmed away from the vibrator and Aziraphale sighed. 

“Keep _still_, Crowley. You _can_ do this. My dear boy, you can.”

Crowley forced himself to keep still as Aziraphale pushed the vibrator harder against his clit. He rocked it back and forth and Crowley whined and came again, body shaking. Aziraphale could feel just how wet he was while cupping him, could see the evidence on his thighs. 

After he came the second time, Aziraphale turned off the vibrator and set it aside. 

“Thank you,” Crowley panted. 

“Of course. We’re not done yet, though.”

Crowley’s eyes were so yellow, so sated and yet so desperate. Aziraphale pulled on the chain again and they widened. 

“Do you remember when I wondered if you could come just from this? It might be cheating a little because you're so keyed up, but I'd like to try.”

He ducked his head and flicked his tongue over one of his nipples. Crowley moaned. He continued to flick his tongue and he heard Crowley babbling above him.

“Patience, dear,” he murmured. He removed the clamp from the nipple under his lips and took it into his mouth, sucking and biting at it gently. He pulled at the chain still attached to the other and Crowley keened under the dual sensation. 

“_Yes_, angel. They're so sssensitive. Like a live wire to my cunt. Your _tongue_... Fuck’s sake, keep going.”

He kept the clamp taut as he grazed his teeth across his nipple and Crowley wiggled his hips, pulled at the restraints again. He finally moved over to the other one, unclamping it and dragging it over his lips before sucking it into his mouth. 

“Angel, I'm so close.” 

He sucked and laved and then circled the other under the pad of his thumb before _pinching_ and Crowley groaned low, reverberating through his chest under Aziraphale’s head, and his back arching as he came again. 

Aziraphale pressed his forehead again Crowley’s chest, listening to his heartbeat and his lungs panting beneath him. 

“Let me touch you, Aziraphale,” he breathed. 

“Not yet, love.” He miracled Crowley’s t-shirt away and kissed up his chest and his neck. “Look at you. You're perfect.”

Crowley chuckled. “Wildly the opposite, actually.”

He kissed under his ear. “Perfect. Beautiful. I'm desperately in love with you, you exquisite thing.”

He was, desperately in love. He felt drunk with it now. Crowley knew exactly what he needed to push through the irritation he felt and now he was just _grateful_ for this person who would do anything just to see him smile again. 

He sat up and miracled his jeans away and Crowley's legs fell open. Aziraphale rubbed them and bent his knees back and forth to increase his circulation and ease any soreness. He looked up and Crowley was smiling at him, tears pricking his eyes. It took his breath away. 

He ran his hands up Crowley's slick thighs and slid two fingers easily inside him. He quickly added a third and Crowley's breathing grew heavier. 

“I still want to hear you talk, darling.”

Crowley laughed breathlessly. “You're demanding _a lot_ from my mental faculties, angel.”

“Because I know you can do it. Please.” He crooked his fingers up. 

“Love your fingers. So thick. You fill me up so fucking much. Love when you fill me up - your fingers, your cock, your tongue, a toy, whatever. Makes me feel _used_, _possessed_.”

Aziraphale increased his speed and the tears prickling at the corner of Crowley’s eyes spilled over. 

“Please, please, Aziraphale. One more. Need to feel you. Please.”

“Anything.” He carefully pulled out and slipped his pinky inside Crowley who sobbed gratefully. He rocked his hand as much as he could and ground the heel of his palm against Crowley’s clit. Tears streamed down Crowley’s face and he clenched his eyes shut as he came with a silent shout. 

Aziraphale could feel Crowley clenching and fluttering around him, sucking his fingers farther inside. Crowley opened his eyes and blinked away the tears.

“My love--” Crowley groaned. “Please, just one more. Just one more and we’re done, I promise. Can you give me just one more, my darling good boy?”

Crowley nodded and sniffed. “Please. I want to touch you. I want you to kiss me.”

“Oh, my love.”

With a snap, Crowley’s restraints fell away and he wrapped Aziraphale in his arms gratefully. He hiccuped and cried against Aziraphale’s ear. 

“Yes, my darling boy. Just one more, I know you can. One more and we’re done.” He thrust his fingers in and out slowly. The angle was awkward but they were both so involved in each other, neither seemed to mind. 

He kissed Crowley softly and Crowley whimpered. He wrapped his legs around Aziraphale’s waist and rocked his hips into his hand. 

They stayed like that, limbs entangled and moving together so slowly, as they were overwhelmed by each other, as they _made love_ in the purest sense of the word. 

Finally Crowley’s breath hitched and he moved his hips quicker. 

“Yes, let go. I'm right here. You've done so well. Thank you. _Thank you_.”

He came and squeezed his legs tight around Aziraphale’s waist. Aziraphale murmured adorations into his ear as he came down before removing his hand and holding Crowley close to him. He tucked his head under Crowley’s chin and they laid there while their breathing and heartbeats to evened out. 

“Thank you,” he whispered into Crowley’s skin. “For knowing me so well and knowing just what I needed and taking care of me.”

“If you giving me five orgasms in a row is taking care of _you_, then let me take care of you more often.” Aziraphale snorted. 

“I mean it. You give me so much.”

Crowley buried his nose in his hair. “I've never wanted to do anything else.”

* * *

“We can just _make_ a tree! Why are we doing this?”

“Because it's _fun_. Now what do you think of this one?”

“I'm not having fun,” Crowley grumbled. He skulked over to the lush Christmas tree Aziraphale was standing next to, his hands fisted tight in his coat pockets, and made a non-committal noise. “It's fine. It looks just like every other tree here.”

“This is the one. Oh, sir, excuse me!” Aziraphale chased after the salesman to pick their tree and pay. The man walked back over and eyed Crowley and then the Bentley parked on the street. 

“Need help loading that on the roof?”

Crowley spun around to look at the Bentley and then back to look at the man. “No. No, no, no, that tree isn't going anywhere near my car. No. No.”

Aziraphale huffed. “Dear, how do you expect we get this home if not on top of the car? It's too far to drag home.”

He could feel Crowley glaring at him. “I'm sure we will find _another way_, angel.”

“Oh! Right.” He turned back to the salesman and smiled. “I think we’ll manage, thank you very much.”

The man made a gruff sound and walked away. Aziraphale turned to Crowley. 

“Make sure no one’s looking.” Crowley nodded and Aziraphale transported the tree back to his flat. 

“So what's next on our grand tour of the wondrous magic of Christmas?”

“You don't need to sound so sardonic, dear. I thought it'd be nice to go to Hyde Park and look at the lights and maybe get some food.”

“Yeah, all right. That sounds good. Plenty of opportunities to cause mischief.”

Aziraphale paused with his hand on the car door. “Oh dear, you wouldn't. It's _Christmas_.”

“First, it's the 10th of December. Second, December is always one of my best months. The holidays are rife for discord opportunities.”

“You're a menace, you know that?”

“_Demon_.”

“Well, I'll just have to thwart you like in the good old days. This is my first winter holiday season without supervision. I'm so excited to perform as many miracles as I want!”

They drove to the park and Aziraphale delighted in all of the sights and smells from the food stalls. Crowley bought him a large hot chocolate and Aziraphale beamed at him. He cupped it in his mittened hands, feeling the warmth spread through his fingers.

Crowley caused some couples to bicker over family dinners. Aziraphale miracled cash into frazzled parents’ wallets. 

They meandered towards the ice skating rink and Aziraphale sighed happily as he watched couples skating hand-in-hand and children totter unsteadily. Crowley came up behind him and wrapped his coat and arms around him. He rested his chin on Aziraphale’s shoulder. 

“Hello, darling.” He leaned his head to the side against Crowley’s. “Doing all right?”

“I'm cold,” he complained. “And you're warm. Drink so you can warm me up, too.”

Aziraphale took a sip of the hot chocolate and Crowley nuzzled his ear. 

They watched the skaters in comfortable silence. A little girl attempted a jump and Aziraphale felt Crowley wave his fingers from inside his coat pocket and she landed perfectly. She squealed and skated over to her mother who was just as enthusiastic. Aziraphale’s heart warmed. 

“Now who’s getting into the Christmas spirit?”

“10th of December. And it'll just encourage her which means her parents will have to sacrifice more of their time to skating lessons. It was evil, actually, what I did.”

Aziraphale leaned back against Crowley. “Yes, dear. Very wily.”

Several minutes later, Aziraphale noticed a group of boys circling and harassing a teenage girl. His lips curled and he snapped his fingers, causing all of them to trip and fall on the ice. She skated away quickly and one of the boys pressed his gloved hand to his face which was bleeding profusely. 

“I think you broke his nose,” Crowley murmured. 

“Good.”

Crowley hugged him tighter. “C’mon, let's get back. I want to get the decorating over with.”

They made their way back to the shop and Aziraphale stopped them in the doorway. 

“Hold on, you've got some--” He brushed snow out of Crowley's hair and the demon’s cheeks turned pink. Aziraphale smiled and walked past Crowley through the door. 

Crowley shrugged his coat and mittens off before helping Aziraphale with his own and hanging them both up. 

Aziraphale clapped his hands. “Right. I think just some holly and lights in the windows down here. I want it to be festive but not _too_ inviting. And then upstairs it'll mostly be the tree, in that corner to the left of the fireplace, I think. What do you think, Crowley?”

“Whatever you want, angel. I don't have a horse in this race.”

He crossed over to Crowley and laid his hand on his forearm. “Can you get started upstairs and I'll join you after I'm done here shortly?”

Crowley kissed his cheek and headed upstairs. 

All in all, it only took Aziraphale about twenty minutes to get everything situated to his liking. The warm fairy lights back lit the holly beautifully and he smiled at the cozy image it projected. 

He walked up the staircase and saw Crowley bent over, pouring water to the base of the tree. He stood up and wiped his brow. 

“I made it so it wouldn't dry out near the fire. Or catch fire. We don't need another fire, is what I'm saying.” Aziraphale always noticed the way his jaw twitched when he casually mentioned That Day. 

He gave a sympathetic smile and then noticed the small sprigs of leaves over the doorways and scattered throughout the room.

“Crowley. Why is there mistletoe over every conceivable threshold?”

He grinned and sauntered towards Aziraphale. “I wanted to give you every possible opportunity to kiss me.” 

“You know I don’t need an excuse to kiss you, right?”

Crowley pulled at his sleeve until they were both standing under one of the sprigs. “But wouldn’t you jump at the opportunity for one?” 

Crowley leaned in to kiss the corner of his mouth and Aziraphale smiled.

“You know, mistletoe is also supposed to protect against demons.”

Crowley waved his fingers which were tinged pink. “Yeah, it stung like anything hanging it up.”

Aziraphale grabbed his hand and pressed a kiss to his fingers. “Poor darling.” He laced their fingers together and Crowley smiled.

“I might need another one. Just to really feel better.”’

Aziraphale beamed. “Well, all right.”

* * *

On Christmas Eve, Aziraphale settled in for an early evening with himself. Crowley was busy performing some last-minute demonic inconveniences for the people of London and Aziraphale figured the less he knew, the better. 

He had put on his coziest socks and a thick cardigan. He made himself a cup of tea, selected a book, and was just ready to grab some biscuits from the backroom when Crowley burst through the front door. He jumped and squeaked at the sudden intrusion, but then felt very worried. Crowley looked anxious, tetchy. He wasn’t fidgeting like he sometimes did, but it was in the way he held his jaw, the thin line of his lips.

“Crowley, are you oka--”

“Fine, angel.”

Aziraphale furrowed his eyebrows. “Are you sure? You seem agit--”

“Just peachy.”

Peachy. Right. Well, if Crowley wasn’t going to just _tell_ him what was wrong...

He took a step towards Crowley and the demon remained where he stood. A good sign, at least. “Well, you caught me just getting ready for my night in. I didn’t expect you back so soon. Is there anything I can get you? What do you need?”

He stood patiently, waiting for Crowley to offer him anything he could work with. Crowley finally ducked his head before looking back up and said “Tell me to do something.”

Aziraphale could hear the edge of desperation in his voice. Crowley was one of the only demons with imagination and often, it was overactive. He knew Crowley could get lost in his own spiraling thoughts sometimes and what he needed was for someone to just think for him.

“Of course, darling.” Aziraphale spoke softly. “First, please take off your glasses. We’re inside and we’re safe so you can take them off.” Crowley tensed slightly at the word “safe” but he did as he was told and tucked them neatly into his pocket. Now that Aziraphale could see his eyes, he saw a simmer of anger in them. He tried not to worry outwardly.

“Better. Now, like I said, I was preparing to do some reading. I made myself a cup of tea, but actually I think I’d prefer cocoa. Can you make me some?”

Crowley nodded curtly and walked up the stairs out of sight. Aziraphale locked the front door and peered out the windows before methodically closing the shutters. He sat back in his chair and gripped his hands nervously. Crowley looking over his shoulder… had he seen something? Surely if they were in imminent danger, Crowley would have been more urgent, would have explained what he’d seen and whisked them away immediately if anything had actually happened. 

He took a deep breath and a sip of the tea still cooling at the desk to calm his nerves. He needed to be steady, collected, in _control_ for Crowley when he returned.

Crowley walked down the stairs several minutes later carrying a cup of cocoa carefully. He set it at Aziraphale’s side and stood, waiting for more instructions.

“Thank you, dear. Oh, you must be warm with your coat still on. Take it off and hang it up for me, please.”

Crowley shrugged his coat off and hung it on the rack before returning to Aziraphale. 

“And I was just about to fetch some biscuits when you came in. Would you mind getting them? The ones in the backroom.”

He wandered into the backroom and brought back a tin of lemon biscuits. Aziraphale had been quite sure it was the chocolate ones back there, but maybe not. He looked up at Crowley who was watching him expectantly. He could still see faint anger in Crowley’s eyes and decided to press his luck. If Crowley snapped at him, he could stand his own.

“These aren’t the right biscuits. I wanted the chocolate ones - perhaps they’re in the kitchen?”

There it was. He looked like he was about to upend the tin over his head. Crowley’s eyes flashed in anger and his lips snarled, mouth open ready to argue, but Aziraphale raised his eyebrows, daring him to say something. Crowley looked like he was deciding that himself before he snatched the tin back and stomped upstairs. Aziraphale exhaled. 

Crowley came back down the stairs and handed him the tin of chocolate biscuits. Aziraphale took it and set it on the desk without looking. He took Crowley’s hand in his and stroked his thumb over the back of it.

“Darling, thank you. Sorry to be such trouble - I know I can be particular.” He could see some of the tension leaving Crowley’s long frame, but he looked like he still needed Aziraphale to take the reins for awhile.

“Are you ready to talk?” 

“No.”

He squeezed his hand. “Okay, that’s fine. I’m going to read until you’re ready. You can just kneel here next to me or you can have my cock, if you’d like.”

Crowley let out a large exhale. “Your cock. Please.”

“Such good manners. Do you want to be clothed or no? I would keep you warm either way.”

“Want to keep my clothes.”

“Of course, dear. Come here.” Crowley sank to his knees and positioned himself between Aziraphale’s legs. Aziraphale opened his trousers and pulled out his soft cock. He ran his fingers through Crowley’s coiffed hair and Crowley looked up at him, eyes wide and vulnerable. 

“You can pull off any time you want, but also if you want to stop, just squeeze my leg. I’m going to check in with you by tapping twice, so please tap twice back if you’re okay and want to continue. Yes, Crowley?”

“Yes, Aziraphale.”

“Good, thank you, love.” He rubbed his thumb along Crowley’s bottom lip and he opened his mouth to accept Aziraphale’s cock. He let Crowley adjust before running his fingers through his hair again. He tapped his cheekbone twice with his thumb. He felt Crowley tap him twice on the ankle and he picked up his book and started reading.

Crowley fidgeted for the first few minutes, constantly shifting and readjusting his body until Aziraphale sighed and tugged on his hair. He looked up at Aziraphale.

“Crowley, stop thinking.” Crowley breathed through his nose and closed his eyes. He moved one last time before sitting still. Aziraphale went back to his book.

They sat in silence. Crowley remained still, only moving when he needed to swallow around the built-up saliva in his mouth. Aziraphale kept himself never more than half-hard to keep Crowley comfortable. Every couple of minutes he would lightly touch his hair or his face, gentle reminders of his affection and hopefully offering reassurance.

_Tap tap._

_Tap tap._

After an hour and a half, he felt Crowley pull back and he immediately set his book aside to focus on him. He pulled off Aziraphale’s cock and spit trailed down his chin and at the corners of his mouth. He swallowed and his voice sounded raw when he said “Aziraphale.” 

He still looked uneasy, but Aziraphale found no anger in his face, no evidence of the racing thoughts he had seen before. He pulled out a handkerchief and ran it gently along his face, wiping the saliva away.

“Shh, darling. Come upstairs. I’ll draw us a bath and we can talk.” He stood up and helped Crowley stand, unsteady after kneeling for so long. He guided him up the stairs, an arm wrapped solidly around his waist, and into the bathroom.

Crowley stood by the door as Aziraphale turned on the hot water and poured in a little bit of bath oil. He then walked over to Crowley and began undressing him. He helped him lift his jumper and shirt over his head and then knelt down to unlace his boots and take off his socks. He looked up as his fingers worked his belt buckle and Crowley was looking at him like he was the only thing in the universe. 

He helped shimmy his trousers and pants down and lifted his ankles to remove them. Crowley stood naked and looked a little helpless.

“Get in the bath and I’ll be there in just a moment. I need to undress as well.” Crowley obeyed and lowered himself into the middle of the tub, breathing in the steam. Aziraphale undressed quickly and climbed in, situating himself behind Crowley. He wrapped his arms around his waist and tangled their legs together. Crowley leaned his head back against his shoulder and buried his face in his neck. Aziraphale stroked his chest and his stomach soothingly.

“Darling, what happened?”

Crowley took another deep breath against his neck. “I saw Gabriel.”

Aziraphale’s heart raced and he tightened his arms around Crowley as if he could protect him from an immortal onslaught while naked in the bath.

He opened his mouth but Crowley interrupted him. “Or, well. I thought it was him. It wasn’t. I was out slowing down local network lines so that the registers at shops would be slower--”

Aziraphale bit his tongue.

“--and when I was watching the aftermath, a man rounded the corner and Aziraphale, he looked exactly like him. I mean, exactly. Same stupid coat, same smug, punchable, stupid face. But it wasn’t him. It wasn’t. I know because the man met up with his wife and kids, but I just _froze_.”

“You must’ve been so scared,” Aziraphale whispered.

Crowley nodded. “I hadn’t seen you since this morning. I didn’t know if they’d come back and if they’d gotten you or if they were going after me first or--” He took another breath. “Christ, I feel stupid.”

“It’s not stupid to be worried. Or afraid.” Aziraphale scratched at his scalp and Crowley hummed. “Tell me anything on your mind, Crowley. Do you want me to wash your hair while you talk?”

“Yes.”

Aziraphale reached for a small bottle of fancy shampoo and poured it into his hands, lathering it, and sunk his fingers into Crowley’s hair, massaging and scratching and washing it. Crowley leaned his head forward so Aziraphale could reach.

“I feel stupid because I was so confident that we had all the time in the world. I thought ‘There’s no way they’ll come back for thousands and thousands of years because they need time to figure things out and regroup.’ But fucking four months later and I was so paralyzed with the _possibility_ of it happening that I couldn’t do anything but just stand there!”

Aziraphale continued to massage his fingers into Crowley’s scalp and let him talk.

“The past four months have been the best of my life and it was all going to be ripped away by some wankers who think they know everything about God and Her fucking Plan and have bloody hard-ons for pointless wars.” Aziraphale manifested a cup and dipped it into the warm water. He tilted Crowley’s head back and Crowley closed his eyes as he began rinsing the water away, rivulets streaming down his forehead and temples.

“We’ve spent so much time together... Obviously because I want to make up for all the time we were apart and also I like bothering you, Aziraphale. Don’t know if you’ve noticed. But also because every time we’re apart, I’m a little bit convinced I’m going to lose you. That if we’re not together…”

Aziraphale set the cup down and kissed his temple fiercely. “We’re together. Now. We’re okay.”

Crowley leaned back against him and Aziraphale determinedly kissed as much of his face as he could reach. He slipped his hand down to graze his finger against Crowley’s nipple. Crowley gasped and moaned quietly. He moved his other hand down to stroke at Crowley’s thigh before teasing his slit. 

“You are _safe_, Crowley.” He circled his clit in time with the finger at his nipple. “_We_ are safe.”

Crowley buried his face back in Aziraphale’s shoulder. Aziraphale sped up his pace. “No one is coming for us.” Crowley kissed and sucked desperately at his neck. His hand came up to tangle in Aziraphale’s hair and the angel moaned.

“I will never falter at your side again.” Crowley turned his head and crashed their lips together. They kissed each other roughly, desperately, all teeth and tongues like they were trying to consume each other. Aziraphale kept his quick and steady pace on Crowley, dragging the edge of his fingernail against Crowley’s nipple, and Crowley whimpered into his mouth. Aziraphale sucked on his tongue and Crowley’s nails _dug_ into his scalp. 

Crowley started making the little hitched breaths he always did before he came and Aziraphale quickened his ministrations. “Yes, darling, yes. Safe in my arms, safe with me, come for me, love.”

Crowley whined into his mouth and came, fingers tightening in Aziraphale’s hair and panting against Aziraphale’s lips. He folded his long legs up as best as he could and curled in against Aziraphale. Aziraphale held him and whispered “Come on. Let’s go to bed - an early night for both of us, I think.”

He scooped Crowley up and Crowley wrapped his arms around his neck. He dried them off and emptied the tub with a thought and carried Crowley to the bed. He dressed them both in soft, warm pajamas and tucked Crowley under the covers. He climbed in himself and then manifested his wings, wrapping them in a cocoon, the bright lights from outside filtering in softly through his feathers. 

Crowley reached up to touch his wings and Aziraphale shivered. 

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah.” Crowley continued to run his fingers gently through his feathers. “You always say that you love me because I can anticipate your wants and your needs. But you’re doing yourself a discredit, Aziraphale. You always know what I need, too. Every time. A gentle hand or a-a--” He laughed. “A _firm_ one. You can read me like one of your books. Could probably _write_ a book, just about taking care of me.”

“Just one?”

“An encyclopedic set.” He paused. “This knowledge we have of each other… it makes me feel like I can ask for whatever I want and you’ll give it to me. I’m not used to that.”

Aziraphale hummed in agreement. “I know what you mean. You make me feel _dangerously_ greedy. Also darling, you know that as much as I love how you indulge me, my love for you does not depend on your ability to predict my needs or _serve_ me. It’s something we do for each other naturally - I don’t think we have any other choice after this long - but my love for you is total. Not dependent on any one thing. You’re never going to ‘mess up’ and push me away. I’m not perfect. _You’re_ not perfect--”

Crowley looked at him with mock outrage. The effect was mitigated by the tears in his eyes.

“--but we’re perfect _together_ and always will be.”

Crowley cupped his cheek and kissed him softly Aziraphale placed his hand on top of Crowley’s and stroked it with his thumb. 

“Thank you for listening to my worries and _validating_ my _feelings_.” He groaned. “What have you done to me? All I do now is pontificate on how much I love you.” He buried his head in Aziraphale’s chest. “The feelings talk remains exhausting. I’m going to sleep. Right now.”

“Is it at least less embarrassing?”

“_Yes_, angel, Knowing that I can trust you with my feelings _does_ make it less embarrassing. Now _please_. My _dignity_.” 

Aziraphale laughed and Crowley drifted off to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Commissioned my beautiful, talented friend Ingrid to draw the waxplay scene. [Check it out!!!](https://twitter.com/ingafterdark/status/1233551491312517121?s=21)


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